Patrick

I Bought Five Little Boy Slaves

Chapters 40-45

Chapter 40
The Gift

Of course I had the right to do it; I owned the boy. Nevertheless it wasn't anything else than a cold and cruel rape. There wasn't love or passion, just animalistic lust. I had dragged him out of his bed, thrown him onto a table and brutally fucked him. Then I simply walked away, leaving him alone in his misery.

He was the first slave I had. I had loved him. But back then I had a habit of drinking too much, just enough to loose control. Our relationship was never the same again. Not that I hadn't fucked him before, but something broke that night between us. Maybe I should have apologized, but a master doesn't apologize to a slave, does he? I eventually sold him a few weeks later, I couldn't get the image of him lying on the table crying out of my mind; nightmares racked me every night.

I was determined never to let myself attach emotionally to a slave so much again and for all the years it worked quite well. I liked the boys I had, we kissed and slept together but I never loved a boy so deeply again. Well, until I bought Marcus. And now the dream came back. I knew it was a warning. A warning that I was about to do something terribly wrong.

The sound of naked feet pattering on the wooden floor came from the hallway. The knocks at the door were barely audible and a worried voice asked "Master, are you well Master?"

"Come in boy!"

The door opened and Jan slowly entered, followed by Chris and Sebastian. The boys looked scared.

"I'm O.K., boys. Come here."

I hugged Chris and Sebastian, gave each boy a kiss and sent them to their beds, assuring them everything was all right and I just had a nightmare. Then I asked Jan to sit down beside me. Knowing sleep wouldn't come again anytime soon I wanted some company.

"Some people say that caring about a slave's feelings is wasted effort. Slaves have to function or else."

I stopped and waited for his reaction. He hung his head and I felt him tremble.

"At times that was my opinion too. But I had to learn that's not true."

I lifted his chin.

"I don't care about what people say. To me, your feelings are very important now."

Putting an arm around his shoulders I started to tell him about the dream and what had caused it. As I finished, we had both tears in our eyes. Jan was lost in thoughts.

"Master, but you haven't done anything wrong to one of us, have you, Master?" he eventually asked timidly.

"Maybe I have, or I am about to."

He looked at me blankly. I sighed.

"Boy, there is something you should know."

"Yes Sir, I appreciate your efforts and you will be paid. Thank you very much for your cooperation. Good bye."

I put my phone down and took a deep breath. It was done – a dream of a lifetime eliminated by one phone call.

"Master, it was the best decision, Master."

I turned around. Jan stood in the doorway and bowed deeply.

"I don't know, boy, I really don't know." I sighed.

"Master, please excuse my impertinence, Master, but thanks to you the boys have a place to live and grow up. I know your slaves love and adore you, Master. I only whished I could have been your slave earlier, Master."

Jan blushed but continued.

"Master, maybe you will sell me one day, Master, but I will always love you. The boys will get older and maybe their and your paths will lead into different directions, but they will still love you. Master, I am sure there are other boys out there waiting for you to take them home when the time comes. That won't be a replacement; it would be an addition, Master."

The boy dropped to the floor, bent forward and kissed my feet. I was unable to move. I didn't know where the boy's psychology came from. A few hours earlier he hadn't said a word after I told him the possibility of stopping the boys' growth. He simply got up, took Marcus out of his basket and placed the sleeping boy into my arms. Marcus was unconscious but his right fist was clenched around the locket 'the angels' gave to him.

'And growing up he will.'

I remembered the words I had spoken in the audio file that had helped the boy to say good-bye to his dead parents. Jan couldn't know this, but yet he had made me think. I didn't remember him leaving; I just cradled Marcus in my lap and cried myself into a fitful sleep.

Putting a hand under the chin of the kneeling youth I forced him to look up. Jan didn't avert his eyes as our glances met; but if I had expected some unruliness I would have been wrong. I knew the boy had said repeatedly he loves me and maybe he really did. But Jan has grown into a handsome young man, though a slave almost as long as he could remember, who knew exactly what to expect from life. And he was right; if I hadn't bought him as an older teen he would have already joined the rows of boys I had sold away. I had seen it all before, how the boys had tried to make themselves indispensable as they felt their time coming. Somehow I had expected to see something like that from Jan, too, but didn't. His actions were full of trust; all I could see in his deep eyes was devotion.

I knew I was very lucky in acquiring this slave. Life with the bunch of very young slave boys would have been completely different without his skills in training them. What I would have done with drill and punishment he was able to do with words in a language the boys easily understood. Of course it helped he was a slave himself and had experienced everything before. The boys looked up to him; he showed them it was possible to survive as a slave and even be happy.

But it was Jan's complete loyalty that impressed the boys most. Even in the dark hours after Sebastian's severe punishment he never doubted what I had done, at least he didn't show it, but explained patiently over and over again why it had to happen. He even managed to make Sebastian accept that he had deserved everything he got and was even lucky to be still alive. I was pretty sure none of the boys would ever try to break the rules again. Of course, there were mistakes out of laziness and silliness; they were still young boys after all.

In some ways Jan was still a boy. He was easily enthralled by every sort of game, as simple as it might be. His boyhood ended abruptly at the tender age of nine when he was enslaved. I knew from the records and his own narrations how harsh and strict his master was; surely there was not much time for playing. He had convinced me how important it was for the development of my young boys to be able to play, to have some free time for their own. I still believe he was right; when the spirit was low and the concentration faded, an hour of boyish fun and silliness recharged them completely. They caught up the lost time easily afterwards.

Anyway, without Julian to play with, I felt the urge to make someone suffer. Jan was not only available but deserved something to take him down a step or two; it doesn't always pay to be too smart in front of your master, though he certainly was right. Some day he would get a reward for his efforts, but not yet. It was still too early for his breakfast bowl so I knew how hungry he must be. But as he would find out soon; breakfast wasn't to happen. Still holding his chin I pushed him out into the hall. Punishment was not was he had expected. His eyes grew wide as I took a nasty looking gag out of a cabinet where I had stored some items of discipline.

The gag was pretty much a large rubber penis that went into his mouth. Secured behind his head there was no way for him to talk, eat or drink. But the penis was hollow; it could be loaded with different cartridges. I selected a cartridge labelled with 'sweet apple' and filled the gag. The boys knew how this gag worked, they had to suck and lick the rubber dildo. If their efforts were enough they would be slowly rewarded with the contents of the cartridge. One of my former boys had managed to empty a cartridge in five hours; usually it took between eight and ten hours to complete the task.

Of course the cartridges were filled with different stuff varying with the degree of punishment. Jan had once tasted the hot chilli cartridge; by the time he had finished it and the gag came out he almost drowned himself in a water basin trying to get rid of the burning sensation. So he was very tense and reluctant to start sucking. Nevertheless he did since he knew there was no way the gag would come out before the cartridge was empty. He relaxed as the first drops of the sweet stuff reached his tongue, but his relief was short lived. Again I caught him by surprise as I grabbed his nose ring and dragged the boy out. We headed to the doghouse where Nico was still asleep. At the side of the doghouse was a long chain; used to secure former dogs. There was no need to chain Nico so it remained unused. Jan had no idea what was happening when I hooked his nose ring to the chain. Since dogs couldn't open a snap hook there were no lock but I knew neither Jan nor any other boy would dare to take the chain off. Jan would be able to move within a 10-metre [30 feet] circle but wouldn't have anything to do. That was exactly what I intended. Jan was always restless and, as he looked at me earlier, I could see the tiredness in his eyes. For the boy it was punishment, but I knew his body needed the break. He could do with a bit of summer tan too.

The worst for Jan was probably the humiliation of being chained by his nose ring, on display for all the other boys. But, though he was shocked by the sudden wrath of his master when he thought he had done well, he took his punishment like a man. He didn't protest or resist; he just knelt where I left him; obediently sucking on his gag while suppressing some tears. The boys would see him during the day, but unknown to him their respect only increased. Chris was sent out with sun lotion. As intended, the oiling made Jan relax and he eventually closed his eyes for a nap; by the way Chris put the oil on the older slave's skin one could easily tell that Jan was 'his man'.

I guess by the way I caressed the still sleeping Marcus one could tell he was 'my boy' too. After checking Julian, who was sound asleep as well, I picked Marcus up, carried him outside to his favourite place under a huge oak tree and just held him in my arms. It was the place Marcus used to go to when he got some spare time for thinking. 'How to become a better slave' was his answer when I asked him about his thoughts out there. The boys knew better than to disturb him in these minutes of loneliness. Nico made this mistake once; for three days he flew into his kennel when he saw Marcus after the prefect boy was done with him.

As I sat there, leaning against the tree, I sensed why Marcus had chosen this place for his few quiet moments. The place had a great view over the village and valley below the manor as well as over the distant mountains at the horizon. Also in view was the graveyard where his parents lay. Here he was as close to his family as he could be; here he could silently talk to them and say his prayers. He was raised to believe in god and he still did; despite what the priest did to him. Marcus was a good boy for sure, but luck wasn't his companion during his short life. After all the boy had experienced, he had offered to sacrifice his manhood for my pleasure. He had willingly chosen to stay a boy for the rest of his life just to please his master. What greater gift could a boy give?

As I sat there lost in thoughts I didn't care about the tears running down my face. I was ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I had been about to accept that offer, ashamed that I even thought about doing anything like that to him – Marcus, my little Marcus. That was the moment I realized that I loved this boy more than everything in the world; more than I ever loved anyone before. I couldn't tell what I loved most of him – his angelic face, his lithe body, his smooth limbs or his delicate boy parts. I loved his adolescent intelligence and his boyish foolishness; I loved his pure existence. I loved him so much it really hurt. For the first time in many years I prayed to God myself; I prayed for the strength never to betray the boy's love and trust again.

I inhaled the sweet scent of the boy's hair and enjoyed the sensation of his breath on my chest. I could feel his little heart pounding, his chest moved in and out. Usually feeling the boy's skin alone caused my cock to become hard, but this time it didn't respond once. If there weren't the worry of the boy's health I would have been completely content by just holding him. I was lost in thoughts and by the position of the sun it was long after noon when I snapped out of my daydream. First I didn't know what had disturbed me but then realized Marcus had moved. He had lifted his head a bit and though he had his eyes still closed he smiled. His eyes moved behind the lids; I almost jumped. Marcus was dreaming and by the look on his face he dreamed something good. I sighed in relief. My boy would be OK.

Marcus and Julian opened their eyes around 6 p.m. but were still groggy. Jan cared for Julian and I was holding Marcus while he downed some water and a thin mash of slave food. Though both were out for almost 24 hours the boys fell asleep again while drinking. No words were spoken; none were needed.

I had seen how Jan had eyed the water. Sure he was thirsty as hell after sucking the gag all day long, but the sadist in me pretended not to notice. I just stood up and ordered him to take my clothes off. When I was naked I took his tiny ear and dragged the surprised boy into the shower stall. As the water was running he dropped to his knees and started to wash me. Of course I became hard when he eventually did my parts. The boy was experienced enough to open his mouth without being told as my cock rose in front of his eyes.

Though his mouth was tired from sucking the gag the whole day, he performed as best as he could. Slowly he worked his lips up and down the shaft of my dick while he continued to caress my balls. He seemed to be completely focused at his task and started as I dropped some shampoo on his stubbles of hair. His eyes grew wide as I started to massage his head but he didn't stop sucking for a second. I hardly could suppress a laugh; he looked so funny with his stunned expression and my cock in his mouth.

I continued to wash the boy's face, his neck and shoulders as far as I could reach down. Eventually I pushed the boy's head gently off my cock and pulled him onto his feet. He stood rigid as I continued to soap his chest and belly; not believing what happened to him. With a gently slap on his side I made him turn around. He was still as stiff as a stick when my hands ran over his back and his lovely round butt. The boy was still small, his eyes barely reached my nipples, but nevertheless he was developing the body of a man, strong and firm. He was way beyond my usual taste of boys but with him I didn't care.

For a reason beyond my knowledge Jan blushed deeply as I pulled the plug out of his back door. He jumped as he felt the knob of my penis pressing against his treasure hole but relaxed as my cock slipped in. Jan tried to bend forward to give me better access but I wrapped my arms around his body, lifted him up and held him tight. He was practically impaled on my cock while his feet dangled free in the air. He was quite heavy but fortunately I was able to hold him up for a while. His head rested on my shoulder and more than willingly he accepted my tongue in his mouth as our lips met.

I sometimes thought back to Jan's nervousness the first times I had called him into my bed. But all reluctance and shyness were long gone; as all boys, Jan craved attention, care and love. The boy melted in my arms and became too heavy so I went down on my knees, my cock still inside his ass. I licked his ears and kissed his neck while one of my hands had found his balls and massaged them softly. The boy started to moan, waves of pleasure ran through his body; he moaned in pleasure as well as in pain as the spiked cage denied him an erection. I didn't last long under the stream of hot water; after a few minutes I coated his bowels with my juice.

When I opened my eyes I was greeted by the most wonderful view of the world, the smiling face of my little love. I had wrapped my arms around his little body when I went to bed and there he still was – lying on my chest, his little arms hugging me as tight as he could. Marcus had been awake when I had entered the bedroom. After some tickling and kissing he had brought his face close to mine, our noses almost touching. His expression was serious. The boy simply looked deep into my eyes and I understood the unspoken question. I just shook my head. He moved his head briefly into the direction of Julian's cage and again the question was answered with a headshake. Marcus eyes lit up, his mouth widened into a broad smile. The kiss that followed was one of the longest and most sensual we ever had.

It was another bright day and while the other boys did their chores I took Marcus out for a walk. We strolled through the fields around the village; it could have been a typical father and son walk. Sometimes he held my hand, sometimes he ran ahead and sometimes I had to call him to close up. He carried or kicked a ball; I held the leash of the family dog. Except it wasn't a father and son walk. I was no father, and he wasn't my son. I was a slaveholder walking with two slaves; one living the life of a sex toy, one forced to act like a dog. Nevertheless we had fun fooling around together and by the time we returned home we all were hungry as wolves. The day settled into routine; life hadn't changed after all. There was never any word about what I had intended to do.

Weeks later I was sitting my living room, sipping some wine and reading business news when Marcus entered.

"Master, I'm sorry to disturb you Master. Councillor Lang is asking to see you, Master."

"Councillor Lang?"

"Master, yes Master. He's waiting in the library."

The councillor and I spent a few years together in school but we lost contact long ago. Marcus opened the doors for me.

"Martin, nice to see you again."

"Hello Mike, how are you? Mike, this is my wife Monica."

"Monica, it's a pleasure. To what do I owe the honour of your visit?"

His expression darkened.

"Michael, we have a big request."

"Well, take a seat. Marcus, please bring wine and three glasses."

Both looked at my naked little slave boy somewhat contritely as he bowed deeply and went to fetch the drinks.

"What can I do for you?"

"Mike, this is very hard for us but we must ask you for help. We have been friends since school and I'm sure you are the best. But may I ask first: This little boy is a slave, right?"

He asked, pointing to Marcus who had resumed his usual position, a step behind my chair, after serving the drinks.

"Of course he is."

"Well, he is quite young."

"I have older slaves. In fact, he is the youngest."

"Michael, you know I'm a man with some influence. This bought me a little time to find help for our son and us. You know my son? His name is Michael and he's quite a good soccer player for his age."

"Yes, I think I know him. What is wrong?"

Monica burst into tears.

"Well, I'm afraid we have failed as parents. He got out of control. He was in a gang, slipped into crime and was caught selling drugs to other pupils. The court sentenced him to slavery for several years."

"That is bad news but how can I help you?"

"The court allowed us to find a master for him. We have until tomorrow morning. Then he will be sold."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know anyone who needs a slave right now. I certainly don't need one either nor could I afford a slave of his age right now."

"Michel, you wouldn't need to pay anything. He would be a gift. We would pay for his stay here too."

He looked at his wife.

"Michael, please. It's just until we found another place for him, if you can't keep him. There are some institutions for – errr – temporary slaves."

He hung his head. I was stunned but tried to hide it. I needed time.

"Well, I can't say anything yet. Where is he now? Did you bring him along?"

"Yes, he's in the car with his brother."

"Marcus, tell Jan to bring the lads in."

A few minutes later two boys entered the room. Jan had his right hand on the back of the older one and pushed him slightly forward. On his other hand clung an obviously frightened nine or ten-year-old boy. He was a handsome lad with blonde, almost white hair. He had lots of freckles on his tiny nose. His shirt was tucked into shorts that were slightly too large. The boy looked in terror at the naked youth that led him in. Seeing a boy close to his age standing naked beside the man he was told was a slaveholder did nothing to calm him down.

His brother, late thirteen or fourteen, was dressed in skimpy blue shorts, a short white t-shirt and sandals on his bare feet. Apart from the sandals it was the usual clothing slaves wore in the distribution centre. His hair was blonde too, darker than his brother's, with red and blue strands. He had long but sturdy arms and legs; his body was quite athletic. In his face was a glare of defiance. Jan made the brothers stand in the middle of the room, turned and knelt to kiss my feet before fading in the background. I saw a hint of a derisive smile in Michael's face.

"Well Mike, this is little Paul and his brother, Michael."

"I see. I can see his problem too, Martin. I'm afraid the following could be rather unpleasant. If you want to take young Paul out, Monica, I can tell a slave to keep an eye on him."

"No, I want him to see what will happen if he follows his brother's way."

"It's your choice. But in my house there are some rules. One of them is that no boy under eighteen years of age is allowed to wear clothes below his waist. Slaves are always completely naked. So if you want Paul to stay please drop his pants."

Monica started to protest but Martin gestured her to be quiet. He beckoned Paul to him and in a quick motion he slid his pants and undies down. Then he turned his now crying boy around between his legs and held his arms behind his back. Of course there wasn't such a rule but I wanted to see how determined they were.

"Michael, strip!" he ordered his other son, but the boy didn't react. He was about to repeat his order when I interrupted.

"Martin, I understand the boy had been processed in the centre and is now legally a slave. I further understand you had brought the boy to me to keep him as my slave without any costs. Am I right?"

"Absolutely, Sir."

"Well, I'm not used to repeat a command given to a slave. Marcus, Jan!"

No further order was needed. Both boys darted forward, Marcus now equipped with his whip. Before Michael knew what was happening Marcus had hit him on the back of his knees. The boy yelled, fell forward and Jan ripped his shirt off. Marcus pushed him forward and stepped on his back, pinning him down for Jan to slide off his shorts. Several whips later the boy knelt, with spread legs and his hands behind his head, naked in front of us. Jan stood behind him, pressing his knees in the boy's back and held his hands together at the wrists. He had a strand of the boy's hair between his fingers, forcing him to hold his head up. The defiance in his glare was replaced with shock and pain. Tears stood in his eyes. Obviously he had never been beaten before. Monica had jumped up but Martin beckoned her to sit down again. He pressed his lips together. Paul stood there with an open mouth.

"The first duty of a slave is to do as been told immediately. If he fails he had to suffer the consequences without exception. Marcus, call Chris."

Marcus went off and came back with Chris shuffling on his knees to me. He kissed my feet and knelt in attention. It was the boys' decision to honour me in that way when guests were around; right now it came handy.

"Slave, when do I expect you to serve me my afternoon tea?"

"Master, 15:30 Master."

"And when did you bring it today?"

"Master, 15:32 Master."

Chris hung his head.

"And how often did the prefect have to punish you for this offence in the last two weeks?"

"Master, four times, Master."

"So it is two times four on each hand and foot"

Marcus understood the purpose of this quickly and added some efforts to the show. He bowed.

"Master, yes Master. Slave, hold out your hands."

Chris looked sick but held his hands out immediately. He guessed correctly that, by the presence of other people and a naked boy held by Jan, this punishment was a demonstration. Being called 'slave' by Marcus had confirmed that. Chris tried to be brave but Marcus' expertly administered blows were too much for him. He couldn't hold back his tears.

"If you are late again this sentence will be doubled by every minute. Do you understand, slave?"

"Master, yes Master. Thank you Master." Chris cried.

I waved him away. He repeated his kiss and shuffled awkwardly out.

"Martin, you can see how I run my house. I expect strict discipline. No offence will go unpunished. Being a slave means hard work all day long. My slaves belong to me entirely. They do what I want – total obedience without hesitation. You can take back your offer if you want."

"Discipline is what Michael needs and punishment is what he deserves. No Monica, you know exactly what he did. He sold drugs to younger children. He is a criminal. He isn't our son anymore. He is a slave now. He needs a strong hand. I have talked to many people. The only chance for him to survive undamaged is in a private household. You want to see your baby again, don't you? I trust Mike; he cares for his boys as I've been told many times. He is the best."

Monica buried her face in her hands and sobbed hard. I told Marcus to fetch the picture of Sebastian as he arrived at my house and to bring him along. Sebastian crawled in, looking shy and unsure. I beckoned him to me, sat him on my lap and held him tightly against my body.

"I guess you know Sebastian. He is a bit younger than Michael and his father coached the soccer team. He was once one of the liveliest kids I knew. Marcus will show you a picture of him as I bought him. That was after only three days in a mine."

I could feel Sebastian was about to freak out again. There were times when he was OK with the memory of his ordeal in the mines; sometimes he was not. Today he burst into tears and screamed.

"Easy Sebastian, you are safe, my boy. Nobody will hurt you. It's all over, son. Everything will be good."

Marcus had hugged him too, pressing their faces together. Eventually the boy calmed down.

"I'm sorry my boy. You are a brave little slave. You'll never go back to that place."

Marcus led his friend out. Martin had embraced his younger son and swayed him around. Monica knelt in front of her older son, crying and holding his face with two hands. In Jan's grip he couldn't move but tears ran down his cheeks freely. He knew Sebastian very well and, though the boy was younger, he had adored him for his soccer skills.

"That happened just one year ago. It took two months to heal his body but I don't know if his mind will ever heal. There has been a huge setback lately. He doesn't know but he is still on medicine. My boys are all close friends and everyone cares for him. Alone for Sebastian's sake I cannot take a slave that isn't able to join this team. Do you think he can?"

Monica turned he face to me, still holding her son.

"Yes he can. Michael is not a bad boy. He is just rebellious as boys often are."

She addressed her son.

"Michel, listen to me. Be a brave boy and do what he tells you. You hear me? I know you can be a good slave. We will do what we can to get you back to us. But right now you'll have to go through this. Don't try to fight, you can never win. I will always love you, baby."

Martin sent Paul to his brother. I nodded to Jan and he let the boy's hands go but kept his hands on his shoulders. Both boys were always like brothers are, but now Michael hugged his little sibling and whispered something in his ear. They were crying openly.

Monica stood in front of me and took my hand.

"Michael, please take care of my boy. I have seen the love in your boys' eyes and believe you are a good man."

She turned, lifted her now only son up and left the room.

"Mike, this is your house and I know it is indecorous but can I talk to my son alone a last time?"

"Of course you can."

Jan looked at me as Michael tried to stand up. I nodded my approval. After all he wasn't my slave yet. It was a hard decision. The boy was quite handsome and seemed to be strong but breaking him might take an effort. And I didn't need him, I had enough slaves. I wanted to talk to Jan first. When Martin had taken his son into the hall I asked my senior slave.

"What do you think about the boy? Could he fit in?"

"Master, I think he could. He is a spoiled brat, without question. I think he had tested his boundaries and hadn't found any. His mother is pretty much powerless in disciplining the boys and his father was not at home when he should be. The boy didn't fight after we had secured him. He should respond well to discipline. He needs it and I think he knows. If anyone is to blame, than his parents, Master."

"I'd agree but I have still doubts."

"Master, this has gone too far yet to back out. Please leave it to me, Master. He will become a good slave. I can feel it, Master."

"Of course it's up to you. For what else do I feed you?" I chuckled.

He looked at me with mocked injury. I glared back. Immediately he dropped his attitude and bowed. I chuckled again, pulled him close and placed a kiss on his forehead. He looked up and our smiles met.

Martin returned and held his naked and trembling son by his shoulders in front of him. They waited at the door. I asked them to come in.

"Now Martin, have you rethought your decision?"

"No Mike. It is hard, it hurts as if someone cut my heart out, but I'm convinced that this house is the best place he could be. With all my money I had failed to protect my son. That's what I will have to live with. All I can do now is to find him a master who will treat him well. I don't want to take any risks at the auction. I know it won't be an easy life for my son, but it would be worse everywhere else."

He pressed his hands on the boy's shoulders harder and the boy understood. He sank to his knees. Gently Martin took the boys arms and lifted them until Michael continued to put his hands behind his head alone. The boy hung his head. His tears had ceased for now. No defiance was left but I knew that wouldn't last.

"Mike, I hand this boy over to you. Please be a good master."

He offered his hand and I took it. For a couple of minutes we stood there in silence. I took out my pocket computer to send a receipt for the boy to the slavery office. As I had entered his registration number I looked at Martin.

"Martin, the sentence…"

"I know, it's permanent. I'm sorry Mike but I couldn't tell Monica the truth yet."

"Well, in fact this makes it easier because there are fewer restrictions. Not that I intend to go so far."

"Thank you very much. Well, it's time to say farewell."

He stroked the face of his son and kissed him. Then he turned around and left without a word.

Chapter 41
Thunder

The question was directed to Jan who was standing beside me, looking at our newest slave. After he got his collar, rings and branding, the boy had spent about 36 hours in the cellar with his neck and ankles chained to the wall, unable to move more than a few centimetres. The other boys weren't allowed to speak to him or even look after him, so he had time enough to think about the changes in his life, hungry and cold.

Now he stood in front of us, hands on his head and legs spread as wide as the chain between his ankle-cuffs allowed. For a boy unused to standing still for long time he did quite well. Even now, after almost one hour, there were just occasional movements as he tried to shift weight between the legs. The boy's body was strong and well developed. He was well hung and clearly advanced in puberty.

"Master, we don't have really use for him. But he has fine legs. Maybe we could train him to pull the rickshaw. An important man like you shouldn't always walk, Master." Jan whispered, not audible to the new slave.

I smiled as I remembered the despair in Jan's face when I had once dressed him as a pony boy and drove him around. I knew there was little else that could humiliate my big boy more than that. Though a slave for long years, he was fully aware of his effects on other people. But he had forgotten his place and had to be punished. It never happened again but the threat hung over him like a sword.

Jan was a very intelligent boy and had experience in training new slaves. He knew that the breaking of the new boy would be hard work. His suggestion made sense, as it meant long hours of running for the boy. Hours he could easily be supervised and punished without neglecting other duties. Besides, the naked boy running would be a beautiful sight and driving a rickshaw felt so gorgeously decadent, even in times when fuel was so expensive that people avoided driving as much as possible. Furthermore, I didn't know anyone else in the town that used a pony boy. My decision was easy.

'I will call him Thunder.' I announced to myself.

I didn't know whether Thunder could imagine his fate or if it was just his nature, but I saw a hint of recalcitrance in his eyes. The boy couldn't probably imagine, either, what a master could do with a slave. Maybe it would be a good idea to show him something. I ordered Jan to fetch my boy pet. Nico crawled in a few minutes later, passed me, stroking along my legs, and slowly went around the new slave. I saw the boy's eyes following his movements. He didn't know what to think about that boy crawling on all fours with a strange tail coming out of his butt; that was obvious.

"Nico, sit!" I ordered the pet as he was in front of the boy.

Nico squatted down immediately and looked up at Thunder in curiosity. He tried to get an impression of the new slave. What did obviously impress him was the large ball sack.

"Big package, isn't it?"

Nico barked twice. The new boy's eyes grew wide. Suddenly he understood the shape of Nico's ears, looking like real dog-ears with their skin coloured caps. I ordered Nico to turn around. As he did I held a piece of dog biscuit in my hand. I threw it into the air and as it came down, Nico jumped to catch it with his mouth. We had practiced this often on our walks and he had become really good. After he had caught the biscuit he crouched beside my chair and chewed it with relish. I stroked his back and tail, making him shiver as the plug started to vibrate.

Next I called out for Chris to bring me a cup of tea. After a few moments the boy entered the room carrying a steaming cup of hot water and a tea bag. He bowed deeply as he approached to hand me the cup. I took it but ordered him to serve as my table. I guided him to the right position so his face was directed to the new boy and checked the temperature of the bottom of the cup. It was quite warm and wouldn't do the boy any harm but I pretended it was hot. I placed the cup on Chris's belly, deliberately spilling some of its contents out of the new boy's sight. Chris grimaced as he felt the hot water but managed to keep still otherwise. I had to do this little trick to get a reaction from Chris so Thunder would think he bore a hot cup on his skin with only a slight grimace. Of course, the water wasn't hot enough to even redden the boy's skin remarkably. Jan had a hint of a frown in his face because he had only seen Chris's face as he entered. It was unlikely Thunder had seen it too, but that didn't matter.

"Come to me this instant, slave!" I yelled at Jan.

Jan winced at this unexpected outburst but darted forward to drop on his knees in front of me. As he did I held my foot out and put the shoe upright. Jan saw what would inevitably happen but since he was already dropping he couldn't do anything, even if he would dare to try. Of course I wasn't so mad at him that I would crush his balls and so pulled my shoe back in the last moment. Nevertheless his crotch brushed against the sole of it and the pain drove water to his eyes. Unable to shout, as there wasn't any air in his lungs left, he looked at me with surprise and a certain lack of understanding before he collapsed to the floor.

"Stop your whining boy and get on your knees immediately!"

I underlined my order with two strokes of my whip on his thighs. Jan was clearly in pain but knew better than to resist an order, so he got up to his knees, panting and with a face as white as snow. A tear ran down his left cheek. I grabbed his collar and pulled his face close to mine.

"Don't ever dare to question me again, you ungrateful brat or I will crash your balls and tear the skin from your ass!"

As his head was between Thunder and me, I blinked at Jan. After a few seconds he blinked back, but knew exactly that it wasn't a complete set-up and that he had indeed questioned his master.

"Master, I'm really sorry for forgetting my place, Master. I deserve a hard punishment, Master." Jan cried.

I sighed inwardly and gave him a slightly pitiful look. Instantly the boy knew he had made a mistake again by asking for a hard punishment. I wouldn't have given him one, but since he said these words I couldn't relent, not in front of the new slave for whose sake I started this show. I wondered what I should do to my oldest slave. It was only a slight mistake, not really intended to be obstreperous. But if Thunder should learn to fear my punishments, this had to be an example. I was sorry for Jan but he had brought this on himself.

"Yes you do. For this outrageous insolence you deserve a good caning. Fetch the senior cane, now!"

Jan turned pale instantly but rushed out without hesitation. Nico looked at me with wide eyes. He hadn't either realized what Jan had done to deserve such a harsh punishment nor did he understand that this was initially intended to be a demonstration. Jan came back quickly, panting and clearly distressed.

"Right, slave. I had never expected such a horrendous behaviour from you as my oldest and most experienced slave. You should be an example for the other boys but you let them down. Bend over and grab your ankles. Stay down. Show me you can, at least, take a punishment as I expect you to do."

Jan, already trembling in fear of the cane he had never felt before, winced at the last words. He didn't know how much of them were for show or meant for real. All he knew was that he had let his master down in front of a new slave. He had forgotten his place by doubting his master's actions, even if it was only for seconds, spoiled by the easy life he had with his master. Tears of shame welled in his eyes. He grabbed his ankles for dear life, determined to stay down and silent whatever lay in store for him.

His determination was high but the first stroke of the cane, placed on the middle of his butt, almost blew him off his feet. The pain exploded in his brain, paralysing his mind for seconds. Without his well-trained slave discipline he would undoubtedly have leaped up to rub and protect his buttocks. As he could think again he realized that he had never felt such pain. Heavily panting he wondered if he could bear this punishment.

I aimed my second stroke a little bit lower than the first one. I followed through and again Jan had to fight to keep his balance. Angry red welts ran over his white buttocks. The third stroke made him cry out and by the forth the floodgates were opened. The fifth stroke landed exactly in the grease between buttocks and thighs, one of the most sensitive spots. Jan shrieked and squirmed. Five deep red stripes decorated the rounds of his butt. I let him wait. Eventually I ordered him up, turned around and facing me.

I looked at a tearstained face, his expression full of pain. He stood with his hands on his head and his legs spread, desperately wanting to rub his cheeks but knowing that he would never be allowed to do so. He had to endure the pain further without soothing, standing still until he was released. I returned to my seat. Chris held his position bravely. I knew he could do much longer since he had managed over two hours without spilling a drop lately. He had watched the caning from his upside down position, I could see in his face how much he suffered with his idol.

The boy to whom the show was directed stood apparently unmoved by the whole event. It was only the pale colour of his face that showed his true emotions. Was there a slight trembling of his knees? But definitely there wasn't any trace of haughtiness left in his eyes, for the moment at least. I wasn't still happy with the boy; I was afraid it was a failure to take him in even if he would earn money for me from his father. Not that I wouldn't be able to break him. The boy would learn to submit, but it could become very unpleasant. Every minute he resisted accepting the fact that he had no choice but to submit himself to me would increase his need for severe action.

He was a strange boy. Usually I could read a boy's mind like an open book but this one blocked me out totally. Sure he was a spoiled brat who didn't knew any limits, but either he was a surprisingly tough guy or he was simply stupid.

He seemed to cope with his nudity quite well but could he stay cool when he had to watch the boys' sexual duties?

I had built a mobile display stand for Julian. The boy was often in some form of bondage and the stand was designed to keep him bound while he could be moved around. An iron bar rose from a mobile platform. Attached were several cuffs and shackles. His neck was fixed in a ring at the top; his waist, thighs, calves and ankles were securely cuffed. His arms were bent backwards and bound behind a horizontal bar that pressed into his back and pushed his chest out. His weight seemed to be held by an iron dildo that was shoved up his ass, and to him it felt true, but in fact some straps from his harness were fixed to the bars to prevent injuries. With additional straps his head, fingers and toes could be fixed too so he couldn't move at all.

That was exactly the condition he was in since the evening before. As I had ordered, Marcus rolled him into the room. I saw that Thunder took a sharp breath and pressed his lips together. That was something he clearly didn't expect. I smiled. Marcus placed his friend beside my chair and stood at attention behind.

Julian was blindfolded so I couldn't say whether he was awake or not. The boy was used to spending whole days in this contraption and could sleep despite the aching of his muscles and limbs. I pressed a button and electricity ran through the thin wires that were attached to the boy's nipple rings. A muffled scream came from his gagged mouth and the boy thrashed uselessly against his bondage. He was awake now for sure. The boy panted but his cock stood out in his full boyish glory. A second shock was sent through the boy's cramped body. More screams and more thrashing but also a rock hard penis were the results.

I blew softly over the tip of his glans and the boy groaned and moaned. My finger stroked over the lower side of his shaft and the groans became louder. The boy tried to fight against his pleasure because he knew he was not allowed to cum, but he also knew he would lose the battle. I kept him on the verge of orgasm for several minutes, causing the boy to shriek and squirm. Finally I took the weight at his balls and pulled harshly. The sharp pain sent him over the edge as I had expected. Since I had denied him the pleasure for days now, the orgasm was intense. Everyone looked amazed at the boy who shrieked and thrashed in his stand. The room was completely still afterwards; only some heavy panting could be heard.

Marcus stepped between my legs as I had ordered and knelt down. I told him to open the fly of my trousers. This was no unusual task to him and he didn't hesitate but was surprised, too, as he felt the whip on the back of his hands. I flicked the leather end of the whip softly over his lips and he understood. A surprised but quiet "Oh!" slipped out of his mouth but I let it pass unpunished. Thunder couldn't see it. Soon the zip was open and his lips were searching for my cock.

I watched Thunder closely. The boy seemed quite clever and had probably realized that everything he was watching could be his task soon. He couldn't believe that a young boy was bound and tortured with electricity. The muffled screams had brought goose bumps on his skin. The thrashing of the older boy before was horrible. This was all written in his face.

I guessed that his parents had never beaten Thunder. He could still feel the pain of the lashes he got this morning when he made a futile attempt to resist the orders given to him. It was a last attempt to keep at least some control. His shoulder still ached from the branding and he had cried that he was no animal as the nose-ring was set in place. Nevertheless, he hadn't lost his rebellious streak. But seeing the young slave kneeling with his face in the crotch of the man he was expected to call 'master' seemed to do the trick. Water stood in his eyes.

Marcus had my cock extracted from the trousers and was about to start to suck it. But first he was in for another ordeal. I put a hand on his head to stop him but didn't allow him to slip out of my cock.

"Are you thirsty, my little slave boy?" I asked him in a gentle tone.

Marcus nodded but obviously not knowing what I meant.

"Very good, so just swallow."

Marcus eyes got wide as he understood but didn't dare to do anything else than nod. Nico had lifted his head and stared at Marcus who had my penis in his mouth. It wasn't the first time one of my boys was fed with my juice but it was a task the boys didn't like at all. Usually it was Julian who gets it but Marcus wasn't unused either. I held Marcus's head tighter and let the urine flow. Marcus grimaced but swallowed.

At first I stopped the stream several times to allow him to get used to it, but then I let loose. The boy swallowed and swallowed, desperately trying not to spill a single drop. It felt really good. The feeling of my penis in a small mouth filled with warm urine, swirled around by the efforts of a boy to swallow it, was extremely comfortable. I leaned back with a sigh and relaxed.

"Well done, little one. Now make me hard."

That was a task Marcus liked and so he started eagerly. He worked his tongue around the glans and shaft, licked and sucked with all his skill. It was only a matter of seconds before he had me rock hard. Again he looked puzzled as I pushed him away. I beckoned him to stand up and turn around. Bending him in the middle I pulled his plug out and patted my lap.

"Sit down, my boy, sit down."

He nodded but his eyes pleaded for some help. I grabbed him at his armpits and lifted him up over my lap. He spread his legs, reached under his butt for my cock, lined it up to his hole and I let him down. Trained by so many times he had ridden my cock it slipped into his bowels easily but not without some discomfort. It took only a few seconds before his little smooth buttocks touched my pubic hair. The boy relaxed. At the same time the little pain faded from Marcus's face, Thunder's jaw hit the floor.

Marcus rested his back against my chest, turned his head and smiled at me. I kissed him and offered him some of the tea to change the taste in his mouth. I patted Chris as sign he could get up. The boy changed with a well-trained exercise to his knees. I ruffled his hair and the boy smiled too. A kiss on his forehead was the reward. I held my hand out.

"Jan!"

The teenager dropped on his knees and put his head under my hand.

"Master, I'm really sorry Master."

"Just make sure it will not happen again and all is forgotten, as you know."

"Master, thank you very much Master."

He was ordered to lift the blindfold off Julian's head and to remove his gag. Julian had some difficulties to get used to the light again. He had no idea what was going on but seeing the other boys close to me smiling, he relaxed.

"Well slave, I expect every of my boys to do his best all the time. If one of them fails, he feels the consequences. Everyone does, as nobody is perfect. Each of my boys will do everything that I want from him whether he likes it or not. That is the rule. Each of them would give his life for me…"

I looked at each the boys.

"Because they know I love them from the depth of my heart."

All boys had turned their heads to me and snuggled closer.

"My boys are slaves for life. I own every millimetre of their skin; I own their arms, legs, heads and backs. I'm their master. My word is law. With a snip of my fingers I could extinguish their life. They are all vulnerable young creatures. I'm the only one who can protect them."

I stared at the boy.

"You are a slave for life. I own every millimetre of your skin; I own your arm, legs, head and back. I'm your master. My word is law. With a snip of my fingers I could extinguish your life. You are a vulnerable young creature. I'm the only one who can protect you."

Tears ran down of the boy's face freely.

"To say it frankly, slave, I don't like you. I don't want you. The man who was your father had persuaded me to take you in. I did, but what should deter me from selling you tomorrow?"

His whole body shook.

"You are a spoiled brat. You had pestered your parents and bullied your schoolmates. You thought there were no rules for you. But you had pushed your luck too far. You have lost everything and everyone in your life."

Thunder had dropped to his knees. He had buried his face into his hands and sobbed hard.

"As I said, most of all I'd like to get rid of you before you can trouble me. Look at you. You are sorry for your lost life. You are not sorry for the kids that bought your drugs."

He crouched at the floor now, heavily crying.

"But nobody should be able to say I hadn't offered you a chance. It will be a hard time for you but if you show me you are ready to give everything for your master, then I'll offer you a place in my home. This is the only chance you'll get from me. Take it or prepare yourself to be sold tomorrow."

He continued his sobbing.

"Your answer, slave! It's the last decision you will make in your life and you have to make it now!"

His whole body trembled and shook.

"Well, I think we have the answer. I'll contact the slave centre after lunch. Jan, take him away."

Jan gave me a quick look but knew better than to question me again. He went over to the boy and grabbed his arm.

"Nooooooooooooooooooo!"

The boy crept towards me, lay flat on the floor and stretched his arms out towards me.

"Master, please Master, don't give me away. I don't know if I can do what you want but I will try my best. Please, Master."

The boy managed to cry this out between his sobs. I knew he was just defeated but not broken yet. But I had him where I wanted him to be without the need to beat him into shape. It was time to finish and to take my boys a bit into responsibility.

"Boys, since it is our family I want to ask you. You know I have my doubts but if you tell me you would give him that chance even if he had failed to make a proper decision in time it will be so. But don't come and complain later on. So, shall we give him this chance?"

"Master, yes Master!" a chorus of boyish voices replied, followed by two high barks.

Marcus had done his best to keep me hard and was surprised as I lifted him up. My cock plopped out of his anus. I stood the boy beside me and ordered the new boy to clean my cock. Thunder got on his knees and crawled toward me, still trembling and shaking. He looked at me, unsure what to do. Marcus bent forward and whispered in his ear. The boy's eyes went wide but he opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around my erected member.

"Well, you'll have to thank the boys, I guess. Boys, this slave is now called Thunder. You will understand later why. Now go back to your work."

Chapter 42
Lessons

After the show I had set up for Thunder I had given him a 'welcome spanking'. I really worked out on him until he hung limp over my lap. After that Jan had walked him through the house and gardens and showed him how things were working. Though six years older, Jan was only slightly taller than Thunder. This might have encouraged the boy to slip back into his unruly behaviour. But Jan was stronger and Thunder found himself over Jan's leg screaming his lungs out while Jan re-ignited the fire in his bottom.

But it got worse for him. He could hardly accept a boy as tall as him, even if the boy was older, to be in charge; but it was out of question to his spoiled mind that he could obey a ten-year-old boy let alone call him 'Sir'. Marcus had no choice than to whip him thoroughly. Of course Thunder tried to escape his punishment but quickly found himself pinned to the floor by the other boys. He screamed and squirmed but he got no sympathy from his fellow slaves. As they let him off he curled into a ball and cried his eyes out. Seeing the boy on the ground as I passed by I asked Marcus what happened. After getting the answer I took out my belt and brought it down hard. Thunder's scream was ear deafening.

If he had hoped to get some rest he was disappointed. As ordered, the boys made him run around the lawn for about an hour, encouraging him with occasional swats. He was then led to the stables where he was allowed to slurp his first bowl of slave food in his life. The boy was so hungry and thirsty, he didn't even think about what he was doing. But the intermission was only brief and soon he was again running his laps. He had no idea how long he had run but after countless laps his legs ached and he became exhausted. Several times he tried to slow down only to feel the merciless whip on his back. Eventually he fell on his knees, heavily panting, his chest burning. But Marcus continued to whip the older boy until he got up again and managed another ten minutes. Thunder couldn't believe this was happening to him. Earlier he would have beaten a boy senseless if he had dared to raise only a finger against him.

Now he was stumbling around a lawn naked while a younger boy whipped him mercilessly. He wanted to flee but knew he wouldn't go far. He had felt the pain from the collar as the older boy had led him to the gate and as his laps brought him too near to the fence at the end of the estate. Further he wouldn't get any help from the other boys since they had shown their devotion to the man. He still wasn't able to think in terms of master and slave. This man had told him frankly he would tear the skin of his back and throw him away if he stepped out of line even once again. He had believed him instantly.

He didn't feel the impact of his body on the ground as he finally collapsed. He didn't pass out but his whole body was numb. The world around him was spinning. Something touched his lips and he felt moisture. He realized that it was a bottle of water and he opened his mouth a bit so the fluid could run in. The boy turned his head and saw the same young boy, who had whipped him during his running, holding the bottle against his mouth again, softly caressing the older boy's face and forehead.

Thunder tried to say something but the boy hushed him. After he had sipped the water Marcus brought the boy's arms gently to his back and clipped them together. The same happened with his ankle cuffs. Thunder didn't fight; he had hardly registered what Marcus did. He was too exhausted to care. He lay in the shadow of a large tree and dozed off quickly. Marcus continued to stroke the now peacefully relaxed face before he left the boy there to rest.

The next morning the boy's body was caressed by warm sunrays coming through a dirty window. Despite his restraints he seemed relaxed and even a slight smile was on his face as he lay in the straw, soundly sleeping. He had been brought into the old stables for the night after another hour of exercises. His peaceful rest ended abruptly as a bucket of cool water hit his body. Drawn out of his dreams so harshly, the boy needed some time to become orientated again. This task was undoubtedly quickened as he saw a pair of heavy shoes below a pair of clearly adult sized legs, clad in blue jeans, standing just a few centimetres in front of his face.

Almost panicking by the sight the boy tried to jump up to his knees but failed as he was hindered by his restrained arms and legs. His whole body was aching but it was out of his concern. All his mind could focus was to avoid another beating. After three futile attempts he finally managed to kneel with his head bowed deeply. But there was no escape. He heard a swirling sound but had no time to react before the leather strap hit his back. He felt his wrists and ankles being unfastened and when the command came he had to resume his running.

But to his horror this time it was the man who was there to supervise him. Soon he again lost track of time. He had to concentrate hard not to stumble but keeping up his running. The leather strapped his backside relentlessly. What scared him most was the fact that the man wasn't shouting at him. His expression was indifferent. He just kept on lashing. The boy's heart was racing and he heard his blood pounding in his ears. His surroundings had long faded but suddenly he thought he was flying. All the pain was gone, he felt as if he had completely new power.

A fierce lash at the backs of his knees brought a sudden end. The boy stumbled and fell. Again he felt the neck of a bottle at his lips and he opened his mouth to welcome the fluid. Slowly he recovered a bit and could see that it was again the young boy Marcus who was somewhat nice to him. He even helped him up and supported him on his way to the stable where he was hosed down with icy cold water. That brought his senses back completely but not his strength. He washed himself as best as he could with his aching body. Suddenly he yelled out as Marcus' whip hit his hands as he had instinctively started to wash his parts.

He blushed deeply as the older boy he knew as Sebastian told him that he wasn't allowed to touch himself there anymore and he had to ask Marcus to clean him. His whole back was scattered with welts, both angry red and already fading. Bruises glowed in a deep red, turning slowly to black and green. The other boys had never seen one of them beaten so badly. But the boy's ordeal wasn't over. He got some more food to slurp and then it was back to running. By the end of the day he barely could walk to the old stable where he was almost out when the chains were attached to his wrists.

The boys stepped back when Thunder was hanging freely. Without a word I took a cane and brought it down with full strength. Thunder screamed as loud as he could after the pain exploded in his brain. It didn't last long, the next stroked simply took his breath away. Methodically I covered his whole backside with red welts. By the time I stopped Thunder had passed out. Without a word I turned and left the stable.

The boys were unusually quiet this evening. None of them said a word when I was around or dared to look at me. I sensed a tension in their mood. During my dinner I had called Jan to me. The boy stood at attention. The food smelled deliciously. Jan tried not to stare at the table. Even after years in slavery, standing hungry beside while his master was eating was hard for him.

"You think I'm unfair to the boy?"

My question caught him by surprise. He searched for words.

"Master, I would never question you, Master. Slaves have to be punished if they fail to prevent further failures, Master."

I nodded. Jan wasn't sure if he should continue but eventually he said

"Master, it's just hard to see what the boy has done to deserve such a punishment, Master."

"Why are you a slave, boy?"

The question took him off guard.

"Master, honestly I don't know. I was too young so I can't remember, and I think nobody had really explained it to me, Master." Jan said after a while.

"But I know. You were caught stealing several times. So you are a thief and sentenced to slavery – just as simple as it looks. But it wasn't so simple. You had stolen food because you were hungry. Your parents had fallen to bad times and couldn't afford to feed you properly. Normally the court would go easier under such circumstances, but there were no places for you to stay as your parents were arrested too. So you became a slave despite that you didn't really deserve it. But that doesn't matter anymore."

Jan stood there, starring at me but quickly his mind wandered. Tears started to drip down his cheeks while he tried to remember. Eventually he lowered his eyes to his feet. Seconds later he wiped his tears away, his shoulders came up and he was his usual self again.

"Master, thank you for telling me, Master." he simply said.

"Look, slavery is meant as punishment for crime. I had bought the young ones because I felt they didn't deserve a harsh punishment. I hope you'll admit that your life with me is quite easy compared to what could have happened to you. But Thunder is a real criminal. Before slavery was introduced he would have faced years in prison, even at his young age."

Jan stood silently with his head down.

"Master, I'm sorry Master. Now I understand he needs to be punished hard. Thank you for explaining to me, Master."

The dinner was very good but I couldn't eat it all. I looked at Jan. At the time I bought him I had intended to sell him after six months or so when he had done his job. But I had learned to enjoy his presence. He was obedient and polite and he took his job very seriously. He was a quick learner and had a talent for financial business. I expected him and Marcus to read the newspaper regularly so I could talk with them about what was going on in the world. Some time before Jan had made a comment about a new product a small company had invented and if he had money he would buy some shares.

I had asked him if he was sure about and he said yes. So I invested a small sum and much to my surprise the share started to rise like a rocket. The boy was really enthusiastic as I told him he could try to reinvest the profit. By now he hadn't lost any money since. This little adventure didn't affect his work at all, though he was eager to read as much as he could about my profession.

I ordered Jan to kneel on the floor beside me. As he was down I put some of the food on a plate and handed it to him. He took it but held it up as he got it and looked at me blankly. I smiled at him.

"It's for you, boy. Eat before I change my mind."

His hand started to shake so I thought he would drop it. He looked at me as if I had hit him backhanded and started to cry. Carefully he put the plate down to the floor. I stroked his head. Jan grabbed my hand, kissed it and buried it between his face and his hands.

"Master, thank you, Master." he sobbed.

"It's all right boy, you earned it. Now eat before it is cold." He let my hand go and his head went down to the plate.

"Use your hands, silly boy." I laughed.

Again he winced as if I had hit him and new tears shot in his eyes. Slowly he took the first pieces with shaking hands. He had even difficulties to bring the potatoes to his mouth. As the food was in he chewed a bit and then closed his eyes. His expression changed from curiosity to delight. He didn't gulp the food down as could be expected from a hungry teenager but ate with relish. It was only a small portion but he lingered. As he had finished he kept kneeling with closed eyes, trying to keep the taste in his mouth. Eventually he took the plate out of way and bent forward to kiss me feet intensively. As he got up again his eyes were full of tears again but his look was full of gratitude.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Master, yes Master. Thank you very, very much, Master."

"Well, keep up your good work and it might happen again, boy. Anyway, since you had brought it up, it is your task to train our new pony boy. Let him run, at least six hours a day. Don't talk to him apart from your commands. Use the whip freely. Make sure the soles of his feet can bear every surface. Strap them frequently and let him run on the gravel."

Jan looked at me with wide eyes.

"If he is not running I want him to be restrained all the time. If he says a word gag him. I don't want him to like a single minute of his life. In a few weeks I want him to run two hours at full speed without a break. We start to renovate a stable for him tomorrow. Until he can move in he will sleep tied up outside. If there is other heavy work to do you can use him too. Don't tolerate the slightest slack in his efforts. Got it?"

"Master, yes Master." he answered after gulping hard.

"And if I were you I would do some running too. Once his training makes progress, you'll have to take him out of the estate. You don't want him to run away, believe me."

"Master, yes Master." he said with a worried look.

"It seems to me you have some problems with my treatment of the new slave. Well, that shows I had spoiled you. But that's going to change now."

Three pairs of young boy's eyes were looking at me in disbelief.

"Marcus, give me your whip. You are suspended, your privileges are withdrawn. I promote Jan as my right hand. He can give you orders and you will obey him immediately. He can punish you as he sees fit. You will show him your respect."

Jan stood there with his mouth open and Marcus had tears in his eyes. He couldn't understand why his beloved master's behaviour has changed so dramatically. All he knew was that something was going terribly wrong.

"You will clean up the house until I have my breakfast. Then we will do some construction work outside. I don't want to hear a single word from you unless I ask you something. Jan, put the chains on every boy."

I had called a friend of mine, a carpenter, to come over and help me with the project. Jan came in and announced his arrival. The carpenter knew what I intended to teach the boys and he had assured me that he could make all of them work hard but not to expect too much from them. Of course each of them would feel the strap frequently but he wouldn't damage the boys. For the real work he had brought two of his slaves with him. They were two sturdy young men of about 25 years. Both of them were skilled craftsmen who worked for their master over ten years now. Several times they had done some work for me and I was always satisfied.

Of course they had slim bodies with well defined muscles. They were nearly naked. All they wore were a pair of working boots and a leather belt with a pouch for their genitals attached. From this belt hung several working tools, ready to be used in hard labour. Their skin was well tanned from being exposed to the sun over many years. Their bodies were hairless as could be expected. All in all they were fine specimens of young men.

The two slaves stood waiting beside the lorry. One of them caught my glance and showed a hint of a smile. As long as his customers were paying the bills, my friend didn't mind if they wanted to play with his slaves. The slaves knew that and mostly they enjoyed the spanking and fucking when it was carried out. Ten years ago it was different. They were both newly enslaved as my friend had brought them to do some work in my house. My friend didn't fuck his boys. He preferred his nice collection of slave girls. So it was I who took the boy's virginity while they lay bent over a sawhorse, screaming their lungs out.

I lined my boys up and started to give my orders. Marcus was still shaking; Sebastian and Chris looked like they had seen the devil too.

"Slaves, this is Mr. Thomas. He will be in charge of you. He will build a new stable and you will do everything he says. These slaves over there will work with you. I don't expect them talking much to you, but if they do you will obey. Jim, would you call them over, please?"

"Of course, Mike." he replied

"Hey you two worthless pieces of shit, move your carcasses to the gentlemen who will most certainly refuse to pay the bill because of your incompetence!"

He liked to treat his slaves this way and they got used to it a long time ago, knowing that their master was in reality a good hearted man who treated them kindly as long as they behaved. But my little boys were quite shocked by this language. Little did they know that they would soon be the target of much worse.

"Right, lads, I expect you to show these useless rascals how a slave should work properly."

Both slaves bowed, turned round and started to unload the truck. Tools were distributed to the boys. Soon five young slaves were toiling under the carpenter's merciless strap. They removed parts of the old stable, dug a ditch to lay the foundations for the wooden posts and filled them up with concrete. While the concrete was drying they put the sawn timber together to built walls. The boys often cried as the work was strenuous and the strap and the words of the carpenter hurt them both physically and mentally. The only exception was Chris who really got into the construction work and did it with such speed and accuracy that the skilled craftsmen had to slow him down instead of speeding him up.

At the end of the day the boys were exhausted and cried themselves quickly into a deep sleep. Jan's and Thunder's day was not much less exhausting. Though Jan was older, the new slave was thoroughly fit from playing soccer and other sports so Jan had strain in order to keep up with Thunder. The next two days went by in similar fashion, including several futile attempts by my friend to persuade me to sell him Chris as a working slave.

By the evening of the third day my boys had finished the stable. After the workers had left I assembled the boys in front of the building. It had two stalls inside as well as space for the rickshaw and some hay and straw. Attached to the stable was a wire-netting cage. Thunder hobbled visibly. His soles ached from the gavel he had to run over and the strapping he had received. He tripped over his own feet as Jan pushed him forward and hit the ground hard directly in front of me. He tried to get up but I put my foot on his back, pinning him down. A ball gag muffled his cries.

"Now slaves, how did you like the last days? This is the way slave boys pay for their crimes. We can carry on this way if you think this useless criminal here is worth your sympathy. You can think about while you spend the night in that new cage I built exactly for this purpose. Get into the cage, now, and enjoy the rain that is coming tonight."

The boys looked at me in shock and disbelief but entered the cage. Chris and Sebastian started to cry. Jan was about to join the youngsters but I shook my head. I ordered him to lock the cage and fetch the head harness for Thunder. While Jan was away I took my foot off the boy's back and flipped him around, this time stepping on his arms. Slowly I opened the flies of my jeans and pulled my penis out. Thunder's eyes grew wide. Tears burst out as amber liquid hit his face. Jan returned with the head harness and to give some credit to the boy it looked really mean. I took the harness and held it out so Thunder and everyone else could have a good look on it. When I grinned at the boy under my foot he lost control over his bladder.

Chapter 43
Baby Boy

The bit was designed to stay inside the mouth permanently, apart from cleaning, so it didn't pull the corners of the mouth all the way back. Instead the bit was W-shaped; the sides running along the outsides of the teeth to the front of the mouth, where they turned again and run halfway back outside the cheeks to meet the reins. Inside the mouth an adjustable plate was attached to the bit. The plate held the tongue down, effectively silencing the boy.

For training or punishment a small feather like extension could be inserted too; it would trigger the gag reflex continuously. Thunder had it in just a couple of minutes for adjustment; you could think he was chocked to death by an invisible pair of hands. The leather harness was then strapped around his head, holding the bit in place and leaving the boy with no other choice than to follow the reins.

The head harness had adjustable blinkers so his vision would be restricted and straps ran over his ears, keeping earplugs in place. He would only see and hear what he was allowed to. The boy's arms were put into a tight mono sleeve behind his back. That forced his shoulders backwards and left his sensitive flanks as target for the riding crop.

Thunder made it through the preparations without trouble, still a bit groggy from the drug, but as he saw the rickshaw for the first time he kind of broke down. The boy didn't collapse; he just stood and tears ran in streams down his face. All the defiance he had in his eyes despite the frequent beatings and the rough treatment was gone. It was as if something had flicked a switch but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Without being prompted, he shuffled forward, stepped between the bars of the cart and turned around so he stood facing away from the rickshaw. Between the bars hung a belt, attached with chains. Jan reached around the boy and fastened the belt tightly around Thunder's hips. He connected another chain to the end of the leather sleeve around the boy's arms. By pulling the chain tight the boy's arms were pulled backwards; no way for the boy to lean forward.

A pony had always to run straight, displaying its body proudly, showing it was a well-trained animal. It had to lift his knees and hooves up high with every step. Being a cart pony was far more than running und pulling. Driving a pony boy was more than traveling. A pony represented its owner even more than an expensive car. It was all about wealth and training skills.

A long way to go for young Thunderr; it takes months of hard training to become a good pony, especially for boys as young as Thunder. I watched Jan as he clipped the reins to the boy's head harness. He whispered something into Thunder's ear and the boy nodded before Jan pulled the straps tight, pressing the plugs into the pony's ears, cutting off most of the sounds of his surrounding. He would hear the commands of his driver but not much else. The blinkers limited his view to straight ahead. Thunder stood motionless, enduring everything almost stoically.

Thunder had seen the rickshaw in the new shed or stable, as he now realized what the building really was, but somehow didn't connect with himself. He had taken all the running and beatings as some strange way to become accustomed to a life of a slave, as something all slaves had to go through. Even as he was presented the fierce looking head harness with reins and the bit he didn't think of being a pony boy as his fate.

He didn't need the last confirmation he got as he was addressed by the man he knew owned him now. He didn't need to be told that he was no longer a boy but now an animal, a pony, and that he would be treated as such from now. He staggered slightly as the supports of the rickshaw were taken away so he felt its weight for the first time. He felt someone entering the cart and braced himself for what was to come. Tears were still running down his cheeks, but if he hadn't the bit in his mouths, his lips would have formed a strange smile.

Timo had no idea what was going on outside. I didn't tell him, of course, and he knew better than to ask. Not that he could, the large pacifier gag silenced him effectively. It only came out while feeding and cleaning his teeth. To his credit, it wasn't strapped into his mouth, he could spit it out, and I told him to do so if he was in trouble, but as far as I knew, he didn't.

With Marcus, Sebastian and Chris outside working, Jan running Thunder and Julian in various types of bondage. I had to care for my baby myself. Of course I could order one of my black houseboys, but I decided against it. The little one had put on some weight. The nourishing baby food and limited movement took its toll. Timo was far from getting fat, but he wasn't anymore the skinny state I love my boys to be in. I had to find something for him to burn calories.

It was the first night I left the other boys outside and I already missed my Marcus. But for his own good he and I had to suffer. I had to admit I had neglected my baby boy in some ways. Sebastian did well caring for him and I did feed Timo at least once a day if possible, but it was quite a long time ago since I had him in my bed. The boy's eyes glared in delight as I carried him into my bedroom.

He had wrapped his little arms around my neck, resting his head on my shoulder. Timo squealed as he suddenly flew through the air and hit the mattress of my bed. He bounced several times and finally came to rest lying on his back and grinning at me. The grin vanished as I reached to the floor and took the pacifier he lost when I threw him onto the bed.

"You are a bad, bad baby boy!" I said with a grim face as I walked towards the bed.

Timo's eyes grew wide in fear but didn't dare to move. I struggled to hide my grin. Without warning I jumped onto the bed beside the boy and started to tickle him mercilessly, repeating jokingly that he was a bad baby boy. He shrieked and squealed and very soon the front of his diapers darkened as he could not hold back any longer.

"Looks like you are a dirty bad baby boy!" I teased him after stopping my attack.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he calmed down. He gulped hard and gathered all his courage.

"Master, I'm not a baby, Master." Timo whispered barely audible.

"What did you say?" I was stunned.

I could see the wheels turning in the little one's head. Should he repeat or try to say 'nothing'?

"Master, I'm not a baby, Master!"

I couldn't believe the boy had the boldness to say something like that.

"Well, let's see. Baby boys wear diapers, sleep in cribs and suck on pacifiers. You're a boy; you wear diapers and sleep in a crib and you suck a pacifier. So you have to be a baby boy."

I really wanted to see how far he would go.

"Master, yes Master, but I'm too old to be a baby, Master." he cried.

"Really? Then why did Barbara put you in a diaper?"

He hesitated and blushed.

"Master, because I peed in the bed, Master."

"I see. You wear diapers because you can't hold your pee. But isn't that exactly why babies wear diapers? And if you have to wear diapers like a baby doesn't that mean you're still one?"

Timo usually was a smart boy but now he was lost. He was defeated.

"Master, yes Master. I'm sorry Master." he chocked.

I couldn't help it; he looked so sweet; I could eat him up right there. I knew Timo since he was born; actually I did change his diapers a couple of times then. He was always a cute kid and I always loved him. Timo was almost a model boy: polite, smart and cute. I never would have turned him into a pet or made him my pain slave.

Before he became my slave I often fantasized about taking his ass; several times I got hard when he sat on my lap. But he was forbidden territory, a 'no go' area. But now, as he was available, I couldn't. I didn't know why, but couldn't bring myself to actually take him. I had him give me head; I enjoyed his smooth body. But though he made me hard often there was something holding me off.

Even though talking to his master as he did was unheard of, I couldn't punish him. Seeing him crying made me sad. Timo had often cried before, especially when being punished, and I felt nothing unusual, but this time was different. I could feel his despair, the mental pain he felt. I stroked his cheeks.

"Is being a baby boy that bad?"

"Master, everything is better than that, Master." the boy sobbed.

"Everything?" I asked, looking at Julian who was still fixed in his contraption.

Timo followed my glance and gulped. We both knew that every bit of Julian's body ached like hell, but his little pecker was as hard as could be. Looking at me directly Timo gulped.

"Master, everything, Master."

The boy curled into a ball and cried hard for a minute or two, then rolled on his back, spread his legs wider and put his arms over his head. He lay there limply, as if he was offering himself completely to his master. And in fact, he did.

"Master, please punish me, Master." He whispered.

I could see his little heart pounding in his little chest. Not the heart itself, of course, but the artery on his neck was pumping heavily. As I lifted my hand he became rigid and closed his eyes, bracing himself for the blow he expected. Another flush of urine filled his diapers.

But hitting him was not my intention. With my finger I scooped up some of his tears and brought them to my lips. They tasted salty, but with a delicate sweetness behind. The boy had flinched as my finger touched his cheeks and he flinched again as my lips touched his closed eyes as I started to kiss away his tears. Flinching at a master's touch was another breech of slave rules but my mind put it away for addressing later.

Timo had no time to react before I ate him alive. I bathed his face and neck with kisses, pulled him onto me as I rolled on my back, and ran my hands over his whole body. I sucked his smooth neck skin into my mouth, ran my tongue over it before letting it back out. At the side of his neck the boy would sport a hickie for some days since I couldn't resist letting him feel my teeth.

The boy's world was in turmoil. He knew he had crossed a red line; and he had crossed it deliberately. He had thought a lot about approaching the master while he lay alone in his crib. Fearing the consequences he had put off the idea, but now it had slipped out. Timo had been punished enough to expect the worst. The least he was expecting was a kiss attack.

But whatever would happen, Timo enjoyed the attention he received from his master. The boy had always been a cuddler; he needed to be held by someone. Sure. Sebastian's care was nice too, but lying in the strong arms of his master was much better. He had envied Marcus and the other boys because of their frequent sharing of the master's bed. Sure he had slept with Mike too, but he knew he was treated differently.

Timo knew the master loved to fuck the other boys and they had told him they loved it too, though it hurts a lot. They told him how it made them feel loved and wanted and the master had always been kind and gentle. Last but not least it meant they could sleep comfortably in a real bed; a huge one. Timo wanted that too. His crib wasn't that uncomfortable, the floor in the old slave cell was a million times worse, but he wanted to be close to the man he had liked, if not loved, for his whole life.

He had tried to offer his butt several times, but had always been rejected. Timo didn't connect his bedwetting with these rejections, but it had started the night after another hard disappointment. But it had become worse; after master had turned him into a baby boy. Even the rare occasions he was allowed to stay in his master's bed vanished. In fact it was Timo's first time in his master's bedroom in the new house. And since Timo didn't get a beating, he drew hope he might get a new chance.

But all that I learned much later. By the time I had the little baby boy in my arms I knew nothing about his sorrows. I just knew I had to punish him, but payday would be another time. Right then I just wanted to have someone to be and play with. I continued my kissing and went to his delicate nipples. The sensations the boy got as I sucked, licked and bit his boy tits were too much for him. A loud and long moan followed by the spasm of every muscle in his little body indicated the boy was over the edge.

After what seemed an eternity he collapsed onto me and panted heavily. His eyes were glassy and focused at some distant point. I just held him. I didn't intend to make him come; I even wondered how he could manage such a mighty orgasm with his cock chained. I felt his little pecker starting to rise through his diapers but it couldn't. Nevertheless he climaxed and his body was drenched in sweat. I needed some cleaning up too so I undressed, picked him up and carried him to the bathroom.

At first I got angry as I stood Timo onto the toilet to remove his diapers. Luckily I was quick enough to catch him as his legs didn't carry him. But then I realized the boy hadn't made a step or even stood on his own legs since we moved into the castle and installed him in his baby room. I felt sorry but wondered why this boy was so different to me. Nico hadn't used his feet since he became a slave and I didn't care. He was a boy pet and had no use for his feet.

So I held the boy up as I stripped the soggy diapers off. Adjusting the temperature – I couldn't beat the habit of turning the warm water off out of Marcus – I stepped into the warm rain with my baby boy pressed against my body. The whole time the boy didn't make a sound. At first he had fear in his eyes as I picked him up but now he had his eyes closed and a smile played over his lips. Little did I know about the plan he was making right then.

For a while I simply stood under the warm water, holding the boy tightly and rubbing his back. Soon he purred like a cat. Soaping up his back and butt I released the chain holding his penis down. Immediately it started to rise and I had to push his groin a little bit from me to allow it to stand up. I didn't mind, he had a beautiful little cock. The boy was in another world, free of the duties of a slave boy. Situations like that showed how much more or less the slavery had already affected a slave's mind. Jan, for example, wouldn't be able to relax so completely in presence of his master, even if he wanted to.

The closeness of the boy was not unnoticed by my own cock. It was already hard standing straight upwards. Timo had drifted a bit down and eventually the tip of my cock touched his little butt hole. The boy looked startled; his eyes as big as saucers. But after a few seconds he relaxed again, pushing his little bottom against my hardon, smiling. Still, I was oblivious to the boy's needs.

Ignoring his attempts to get my attention I continued the sensational washing. I think it was more to my pleasure than his. Eventually I finished the shower and dried both of us. Not a word was spoken the whole time; each one lost in his own thoughts.

"Try not to wet the bed tonight, little baby boy." I told him back in my bedroom.

One could accuse me of unmasterly behavior but I couldn't care less. His cute boner was too inviting; the moment we both hit the mattress I had it between my lips. He hissed as he felt the unknown sensations. But this time a quick release was not waiting for him. I licked, sucked and kissed his cocklet, balls and nipples. I brought him to the edge and stopped. I changed to his lovely feet and sucked each little toe. The next time my lips found his. I think it was the most unnerving torture the boy ever endured.

Finally I tied his legs just above his knees with one of the ropes I always had around my bed. My own cock was throbbing for release and entering the cleft between his thighs was almost as phenomenal as taking his cherry. The boy didn't need more stimulation than a little tugging on his balls and within seconds each of us came. Totally exhausted he passed out. Not much later I followed him into dreamland, my cock still buried between his legs and holding him tightly.

A familiar but still pleasant sensation entered my mind: the sensations of my cock sucked by a little boy's mouth. As usual I allowed the sensation to linger; I just lay there enjoying the boy's efforts. Suddenly it stopped and I felt a little hand holding my penis straight up. The feeling of a boy's pussy pressed against the head of cock is something I would recognize anytime. Still half sleeping I whispered "Oh Marcus!"

A bloodcurdling scream drove the sleep out of my mind. No, Marcus wasn't riding my cock but a boy with a contorted face, clearly in agony. Timo had claimed the prize. He had greased his butt as he had learned from the other boys' tales and simply sat down forcefully. No stretching had eased the entry of my weapon and the results were accordingly. There was nothing I could do; his butt was already all the way down. I was too stunned to do anything.

"Master, I've done it, Master!" the boy smiled through his tears.

Chapter 44
A Journey Begins

It took some time for him to recover but now, almost two weeks later, he was again the boy he used to be – full of energy and spirit. I had made some adjustments to his role and Timo was happy with that. At nights and, whenever I wanted, he was still my baby boy; during the day he got chores to do again. He even managed to arrange himself with my black slaves about sharing cooking duties. I didn't mind; some good traditional food was always welcome. Maybe the boy felt like he had won. At least he was happy though it meant long days full of hard work. So if he had won, he paid a high price. I alternated between Jan and Timo as night-time companions; we had a lot of fun.

Nevertheless, I missed my Marcus and my heart ached seeing him suffer. But he had to learn the hard way what it really meant to be a mere slave boy. Jan was under orders to be especially strict with him, Marcus felt the whip often. I spent hours watching him toiling around the house. He hadn't set a foot into the main house since I took his privileges; he got a corner in the stable and was fed together with Nico and Thunder. None of the boys understood, but they were too afraid to ask. As much as I wanted him back on my side, he wasn't ready yet.

Thunder was doing as expected. He tried but was unable to follow the pace Jan set for him. Not that he could; no boy of his age would. He collected daily punishments but still he didn't break down. But I sensed it would be only a couple of more days. A pony boy needed to be totally broken; it was not much different from training a horse. A pony boy had to follow the reins, nothing else. A pony boy had to run when, where and as long as his driver wanted him to. It was the driver's job to know when a pony needed a rest, food or water, as a friend of mine, who owned several racing ponies, had told me once. Training a pony was physically and emotionally hard work and Jan needed at a lot of comforting and encouragement.

Chris was busy as usual. He blossomed with the building work and even convinced me to let him use electrical tools like drill and saw. Marcus assisted him finishing the stable and doing other repairing. When I found out Chris not only installed but also connected the electric wires, he got a sound thrashing for endangering himself. Nevertheless, I was proud of him. He would become a skilled craftsman and engineer if he weren't a slave. One had to be blind not to see the boy had a real crush on Jan. He adored the older slave; he worshipped the ground Jan was walking on. Each time I called Jan to my bedroom Chris had to fight to hold back his tears.

Sebastian did well too. Apart from some minor flashbacks, he behaved like a normal boy; at least when he knew someone was around somewhere. He cared for Nico and Julian; cleaned and fed them. He changed Timo's diapers and prepared his bottles. With Marcus not available, he was responsible for my personal service too. The first time in the shower with me he almost screamed, so unused he was to warm water already. To me it was barely warm enough; to him it must have been hot as hell. His developing body was hot as hell too. He was just starting his way through puberty, but he had already some defined muscles on his chest and belly.

We were both surprised to find some sparse hairs sprouting right above his caged little cock. The boy was definitely growing up. Sebastian was proud of his first hairs down there. Unknown to him, the pubic hairs wouldn't stay long, but I decided I would wait until he had some more, so the effect of having them removed would be more impressive. After all, he was a slave, though I loved him very much. After the first shaving he would have to pluck them out himself until too many of them grew. Then I would have to decide whether to denude him permanently or not.

Julian experienced his first taste of real long-term immobility. Since he did well in his bondage stand I let him run free for a couple of days. Unfortunately he indeed tried to run around but didn't get far. Something went wrong and we found him screaming in the yard. The vet fixed his broken leg and strained wrist an hour later but of course it was weeks before he could walk again. Because of an open wound on his leg the vet couldn't put him into a cast so his leg had to be immobilized otherwise.

After learning the problem Chris disappeared and returned with a chain, some pulley wheels and wooden planks. Twenty minutes of drilling-cutting-and-mounting later he had a home-made stretcher system attached to Timo's crib. It would be a bit cramped in the crib with the two of them sleeping there but it was the easiest solution. The vet and I were impressed but, of course, the slave didn't get praise – at least not in front of the vet.

Julian was strapped in and couldn't move more than his fingers and toes. Though Timo was anxious about his friend he couldn't hide a devilish grin as he saw Julian lying in his crib with diapers too.

When the pain killers wore off and Julian started to moan Timo grabbed one of his spare pacifiers and shoved it into his friend's mouth. It was already bedtime for him. With a satisfied smile he climbed into the crib, pulled the lid shut and made himself comfortable. Julian was exhausted and soon two big baby boys were together in dreamland. Apart from Julian's injuries it was a beautiful sight.

Nico seemed to be even more depressed than usually. He did his rounds with his head down and had no fun playing games like fetching the stick or pushing a ball; something he usually did enthusiastically since it meant attention from someone. The vet gave him a quick check but found nothing physically. I guessed he missed the time the boys usually spent with him. But since they were all occupied the whole day, nobody had time for him. I tried to cheer him up but failed. He had had such periods before so I wasn't really anxious about him. I didn't connect his mood with the quick talk his mother and I had when we had met in the park some days ago. Looking back I now realise how blind I was not to see the obvious.

I had taken him out for a short walk after lunch as I had done a couple of times before. Nico was, by then, used to the staring and teasing from other people, especially kids. It helped him a bit that beside his mittens, knee pads, tail and ear caps he wore a muzzle that covered half of his face. Dogs had to wear muzzles in the park by law so I saw to it he was no exception. Nico had learned to behave almost like a real dog. He marked 'his territory' with some squirts of his urine, chased birds and butterflies, barked at other dogs and stuff like that. He even learned to control his tail's movements by his anal muscles. I was really proud of him.

Half the way through the park we met Marge, Nico's mother, sitting on a bench under a tree. It was clear her life had changed a lot. She had a happy smile on her face and a very round belly. She greeted me warmly and we started to talk. I learned she had started to visit the clubs and bars again since she wasn't stuck at home with a child any more. She had eventually found a new friend and was happy to carry a new baby.

For Nico, who had got a light patting on his head from his mother as the only acknowledgement of his presence, the world turned upside down. The realisation that his own mother just treated him like a real dog and was obviously happy without him, hit him like a freight train. Something in the boy's mind broke at that moment without anyone noticing.

Marcus was close, very close, to giving up. He had kept up the hope everything was just a bad dream or a mistake and soon he would be back in his beloved master's arms. But with every hour, with every day that passed by, a bit of that hope vanished. He tried very hard to do his chores as ordered but, since he was still just a little boy and far better with his brain than his hands, he failed quite often. He took his punishments without complaining. Every time he saw the master he cheered up, only to crash down even harder when I passed by without even noticing him. He had stopped crying; at nights he just stared into nowhere. The boy knew only his strong mind kept him from giving in and doing everything without thinking like a mindless zombie. But was it worth the effort? Wouldn't that be better than always thinking about what went wrong?

To make it worse, the master was about to leave. Marcus struggled pulling the heavy suitcase to the waiting taxi. Nico's cage was already stored in the trunk; Jan let the whip fall onto Marcus's backside to keep him going. When he arrived at the car he waited until he realised he was expected to lift the suitcase into the trunk. Marcus knew there was no way he could lift the big suitcase a few inches let alone into the trunk. Nevertheless he tried and, of course, failed. Eventually he sank to his knees, knowing he was defeated, and waited for the rain of lashes to come. He was about to be left behind; something that never happened before. It was over; there wasn't any place for him in the master's heart any more.

Jan looked at me worryingly; he recognised the signs as well as I did. I just shook my head and pointed at the suitcase. With a suppressed sigh of relief he lifted the suitcase into the boot, not without having difficulties himself. Ruffling his hair I reminded Jan to keep everything in order and not to be lenient with the boys. With a good-bye-kiss on his forehead I entered the taxi.

"Marcus! What are you waiting for? Jump in!" I shouted.

Slowly, as if he were in slow motion mode, the boy's head came up. Jan smiled and pointed into the boot. Marcus moved, still looking uncomprehendingly, as if he was in trance. Suddenly it hit him – the master wasn't leaving him behind! He jumped as fast as he could into the boot and ducked. As Jan closed the lid he could see the boy smiling, the first time in weeks.

Marcus knelt on the luggage belt heavily panting. Though he had a cart it had been hard work to follow my brisk pace through the departure hall with the suitcase and Nico's cage. Slaves were a common sight at the city's airport though Marcus was one of the youngest boys, at least I thought.

"I'm sorry, Sir. This slave doesn't qualify as cabin luggage any more. It's too big and too heavy to fit in."

I stared at the clerk disbelievingly. I had explicitly booked a first class seat with slave box so I could take Marcus with me.

"I'm really sorry, Sir, but the boxes are only suitable for smaller slaves up to seven or eight years. You have to check the slave in as luggage or leave it in the airport's kennel, Sir."

I could see the fear rising in Marcus; he trembled and turned pale. I put my hand on his shoulder and he became rigid.

"No, he comes with me." I said.

"Very well, Sir. Do you want to buy a transportation bag? Or may I suggest putting the slave into that cage too? The weight limit isn't exceeded yet."

I had used a transportation bag some years ago. The boy had been bruised badly from the rough handling. I thanked the clerk and took Marcus by his collar, guiding him to the cage door. It would be a cramped affair but it was better than nothing. I had given Nico a mild sleeping drug and he was slightly snoring in his box. Marcus had no such luck; he would most likely be awake all the time. I knew it would be scary in the freight compartment, but there was nothing I could do; I couldn't buy a ticket for a slave. At least I decided to put him in head first. There was no way for him to turn around, but maybe if he couldn't look through the mesh it would be easier for him. When I watched the cage disappear into the depth of the airport's luggage belly my heart ached. I really hoped that nothing would happen to them; I didn't think I could stand losing them.

The flight was smooth and fast. The service was excellent and I even had some wine. It helped me a bit to ease my worries. It was not only about the well-being of the boys several meters under my seat. I wondered if I was doing the right things. But the opportunity was unique. Five years of hard work had finally brought results and it wouldn't be appropriate if not one of my own boys had the honour to be fitted with the first exemplar of serial production of the world's ultimate slave control device.

Marcus probably had thought he had experienced the worst a slave could, but this trip would take his knowledge to a completely new level. We were heading to the motherland of modern 'human resources management', also know as slavery. Here the penetration of society with slaves was almost completely; they were part of every person's life. Slaves were imported, bred and cloned to meet the never-ending demand for new slaves. Nothing was impossible as Marcus was about to find out soon. I only hoped it would help him to understand what was expected from him.

When the taxi was gone Jan walked slowly back to the house. He still couldn't believe what the master had told him. Sure, he often was responsible for this and that during the last four or five years. He had earned the trust of the master but there was always some sort of control or someone with a higher rank. Now, the master had not only put him into charge of the younger slaves but the whole estate – alone. There was no one who could order him but there also was no one whom he could ask. He would be able to walk out of the gate and nobody would stop him. He could even take Chris or the other boys with him.

Jan quickly dismissed such thoughts; they were ridiculous. He knew too well that they would eventually be found and the consequences would be terrible. There was nothing to gain but everything to lose. This servitude was everything a slave could hope for. They had a dry and warm place to sleep, the work was quite easy and the master really did care. Punishments were hard, but fair and quickly over. They were fed regularly and sickness or injuries were nothing to worry about. No, each slave was incredibly lucky to live here – even Thunder. Never would he dishonour the trust the master had put on him.

Jan stood in front of the master's desk. A couple of keys lay on it together with some papers. The master had explained everything to him but, though he had understood, he still couldn't believe. With trembling hands he reached out for a small key and brought it down to the cage around his cock. Jan found the lock and put the key in. He could feel his heart racing as he turned the key. One barely audible click and the lock sprung open. The master had told the truth. Jan closed his eyes as his emotions went into turmoil. Tears ran down his cheeks but eventually his slave training kicked in again. He didn't know why he cried but it didn't matter. Pressing the cage to the base ring he turned the key again and put it back on the table.

The master's orders were simple – keep everything going. 'No problem' Jan had thought, but as it hit home what had really happened, Jan suddenly didn't know what to do first. He had to take out Thunder later on when the pony boy had recovered from the morning exercises. The master had driven him personally over the gravel paths and around the yard over and over again using the whip freely. It was kind of lucky for Thunder the master had to leave or his back would have been a bloody mess. Jan had felt pity for the boy but wouldn't show any mercy when Thunder was back on the track.

Jan was still in thought when he heard someone screaming. Another scream and it was clear that it was Sebastian who was in trouble. Jan ran down to the kitchen area to grab Sebastian's juice before heading upstairs again. He cursed the master's absence already. The screams came from inside the master's bedrooms. Jan hesitated a few seconds – no one had given him permission to enter the rooms – but he quickly remembered he was the one in charge. He didn't have to search long; Sebastian was inside the walk-in-closet. Jan found the door somehow jammed. He gave it a quick kick and the door swung open.

Sebastian was crouched in a corner, around him the scattered contents of a laundry basket. He had his head between his knees and was rocking back and forth, screaming as loud as he could. Trapped alone in a closet – it was too much to bear for his tormented young mind. Jan knelt down beside the frightened boy.

"Sebastian! Everything is o.k.! I'm here, Sebastian!"

The boy didn't react. Jan sat down, leaned against the wall and pulled Sebastian on his lap. Sebastian didn't resist but didn't stop screaming either. Jan kept talking to him and held him tightly but to no avail. Not knowing what to do else he kissed Sebastian on the forehead. Sebastian became rigid for a couple of seconds before he started again. Jan kissed him again with a similar result; this time the screams and sobs started noticeably weaker.

'All or nothing' Jan thought; lifted the boy's head and kissed him right on the lips. Sebastian struggled for a few moments but Jan held him firmly. Suddenly, like a switch had been turned, Sebastian responded and wrapped his arms around the older boy.

For a while the boys just sat there, holding each other without saying a word. From time to time their lips met and their tongues found the way into the other's mouth. Each time it became more energetic. After all, they were both just teenagers, each with pent up sexual energy. Their cocks might have been locked up, but the hormones drove them wild. Soon their hands explored each other's bodies, rubbed over naked skin while their tongues duelled their counterpart. Everything felt too incredibly good and time had no meaning.

Suddenly a scream and the rattling of a dropped toolbox cut into the scene. When Jan looked at the direction of the noise he saw Chris standing there, with a horrified expression on his face. Before Jan could react, Chris turned on his heels and ran away, tears running freely.

I could hardly wait until the transport box came into sight. I pointed at the box and a sturdy teen, clad only in a tight cock strap, rushed to get it for me. He was one of the slaves assigned to the first class passengers until they entered customs. His muscles stood out nicely as he carried the box with my two boys over. He had broad shoulders and impressive arms but nothing out of proportion. Placing the cage on a cart he made his way back to the luggage belt to wait for my suitcase. His firm butt cheeks highlighted his stunning physique. Only the slave number and company logo, tattooed in big letters on his back, spoiled his appearance.

He led the way pushing the cart towards the exit. Stopping right in front of the customs counter he quickly turned to me, bowed, thanked me for using the airline and left. Since I had nothing to declare customs was a quick affair so the next stop was the immigration office.

I presented my passport and the slaves' papers and answered all questions but the officer insisted on seeing the slaves personally. Of course I knew what was coming but I had hoped I could avoid the procedure. But the officer was young and took her duties sincerely.

Marcus had difficulties crawling out so the officer simply reached in, grabbed the boy's balls and pulled. The boy screamed but was quickly out and on the floor. I couldn't do anything: this was her territory and I knew the law. The officer checked his number with the papers, held him by his collar and put his ear between the jaws of a riveting gun. Marcus was surprised by the sharp sting as the earmark was punched through his tender skin; he let out a squeal and clasped his hands over his ear as the officer let him go. Nico was still sleeping soundly as he was half-way pulled out of his cage and got his own mark fitted. Marcus got my disapproving glance and realised the pathetic performance he was showing. His muscles didn't still work properly so it took him some seconds to get into the attention position.

Marcus eyes bulged out as we entered the main arrival hall. The number of naked or semi naked people of all ages was incredible. It almost matched the number of dressed passengers and employees in the hall. He gave me a quick look and I knew he had thousands of questions; but of course he knew better than to ask. I didn't bother telling him either; he would understand by the time we were leaving.

A couple of minutes later I spotted a boy holding a sign with my name on it. As I recognised who it was, warmth and joy filled my heart. I had hoped to meet the boy during my visit and now he was waiting for me. Marcus, of course, was oblivious to my emotions.

The joy was mutual. The boy grinned from ear to ear as he saw me. He was naked, just wearing a leather harness that accentuated his well toned body perfectly. As I opened my arms, the boy dropped the sign and jumped at me, hugging me tightly. Marcus's jaw hit his chest; this was against all slave rules he had ever heard of.

Any other slave would be indeed in deep shit, but not this boy. He knew he would always be special to me. We kissed passionately while I swung him around. Eventually I stood him back on the floor.

"Marcus, meet '87'."

The slave boy smiled at Marcus warmly but Marcus just starred at the boy's crotch.

Chapter 45
A Matter of Control

The driver just nodded and closed the door of the big limousine. I knew he couldn't speak; his voice chords had been cut as was custom with slaves that worked as drivers for important people so they couldn't tell anyone what they had heard in the car. He was in his forties and had still a well trained body.

He wore his summer outfit: black shorts, shoes and a cap. The rest of the driver's livery was simply tattooed onto his hairless skin, complete with shirt and tie. The tattoo covered his entire body; if he weren't wearing the shorts and shoes that skin would have shown corresponding designs. The company logo was emblazoned across his back in contrast to the black of his painted suit.

Boris was a typical victim of the system. He was a skilled mechanic but not really well educated. As the demand for cheap labour rose into the sky all the lower paid workers were quickly replaced with even cheaper slaves. That increased the need for slaves even more. The solution was easy. The fired workers weren't able to find new paid jobs and fell into hard times; hardly any of them had enough money to support their families and themselves. The situation was similar to the eighteenth century. The elite became incredible rich; the majority of the people had nothing.

Boris was both shocked and outraged as his company offered him a deal. The said they could no longer pay for his job. He could either go into unemployment, with all the predictable consequences, or he could agree that he, his wife and two little sons became servants for the company, where they could stay together as family and his sons would even get some education. Boris knew he had no real choice; he could hardly pay his loans already.

They lived quite well for three years but then the company was sold to a multinational group. The new management saw only obligations to their shareholders, not to their human property. One day, when Boris and his fellow slaves returned from their shift, the women and children were gone. The slaves revolted when they learned all were sold. But the rising was short lived. The security was prepared; 23 slaves were killed and 30 injured. Of the other 150 men eight died during the following punishment. The rest was put on the market. It was pure coincidence Boris was bought by the same company that had bought the rest of his family. Nevertheless, it took almost a year before they met again. His wife Ira was working as a maid for one of the company owners when Boris was ordered to do some maintenance work on their house. The owner wasn't untouched by the faith of his slaves and so he offered Boris the job of a driver. Boris happily sacrificed his ability to speak for the opportunity to get his family back.

Boris hat put Nico's cage and the suitcase into the boot; Marcus was ushered into the fond and put onto the car's floor while 87 simply crawled onto my lap. The car was hardly rolling when the boy pressed his lips against mine; hugging me as if his life depended on it. He tasted as sweet as always; I could hold and kiss him forever. The boy had a magic and I didn't know why but no matter what he did I couldn't be angry or mad with him. When we broke the kiss he immediately started to shoot out questions about me and my visit, told me everything that had happened since we met last and so on, all at the same time. The words came out of his mouth like bullets from a machine gun. Even if I had tried it would have been hard to understand everything since the boy chatted away in his mother tongue. My mother had taught me the language well but Marcus, of course, was completely lost.

My boy starred at the scene above him with a mixture of astonishment, disbelief and jealousy. Marcus knew that even when things were still right with his master he would have been severely punished if he had behaved like, like… – Marcus wasn't even sure whether '87' was a boy or not. Curiosity told Marcus to reach out and touch the completely smooth groin, something Marcus had never seen before. There was nothing; not a boy's penis and testicles nor the slit of a girl's vagina. It didn't look like whatever there had been was cut off or out. No, it looked like nothing had ever been there. Apart from his forced on knowledge of man-boy-sex Marcus knew enough about anatomy to wonder how that kid was supposed to pee. He had lifted his hand half way up when his slave training kicked in and prevented him from further action.

I had noticed it, though, and so had 87. He stopped his flood of words and looked down at my slave boy.

"Who is he?"

"Marcus is one of my slaves. He used to be the prefect of my slaves but he needed to learn what being a slave really meant."

"Why?"

"Look, first of all he is not a bred slave like you. All my slaves were once free boys and most of them were close friends. I got them right after their enslavement and I went quite easy on them. Now I got another slave, a real criminal, and that one needs harsh treatment but the boys didn't understand and questioned me. I dealt with them but if Marcus does want his old position back, I need him to be able to see and do what is necessary, whatever it is without hesitating out of false sympathy. He must understand that every slave has a purpose, otherwise there would be no reason for him to exist."

"Oh," was the boy's surprised reaction. After a few seconds he added "and what is my purpose?"

"You, my boy, you are the sunshine in your master's life."

The boy smiled at me.

"And in mine, every time I see you."

The smile became even broader. He laid his head back and waited for another kiss. I was happy to oblige him. The boy was a great kisser and I would have been able to continue forever. But while we kissed I looked at Marcus. I could see him fight with jealousy, anger and disappointment. I could only guess how much every kiss must hurt the boy who loved me so much, the boy I loved more than everything in the world. But I knew I couldn't stop now; not after all we had gained already. Marcus didn't know it, but he was close; close to making the breakthrough I wanted him to achieve but also close to absolute disaster. The boy was really an open book for me to read. He was oblivious to our conversation because it was held in 87's mother language.

"Why is he staring at me?" 87 asked.

"I think he has never seen a boy like you."

"Oh! May I help him?" he asked, pointing at Marcus.

"Good idea."

87 smiled at Marcus and slowly bent forward. He reached out and took my slave's hand and guided it gently to his crotch. Marcus didn't resist but flinched as he touched the smooth skin where the genitals should have been. 87 held his wrist firmly and made him move his fingers around. 87 moaned slightly as the other boy's fingertips caressed his extra sensitive skin. After he got a nod of approval Marcus curiosity took over and he started to examine the strange kid's groin area thoroughly. He ran his fingers all over the boy's skin, between his legs and over his thighs. He looked between the legs but couldn't see anything like a penis or slit. 87 squirmed and moaned in delight.

To 87's misfortune he couldn't enjoy the sensations any longer since we arrived at our destination; the only home the slave ever knew – the factory buildings of his master's company. On top of the administration building my friend Aleksey had his loft style living quarters.

I had met Aleksey at the university and we immediately hit it off together. By then there weren't any slaves yet in my country and he had some difficulties getting adjusted. The funny thing was we didn't discover the fact that his father and my mother were distant relatives and were born in the same small town in the middle of nowhere until I first travelled to his country after graduating. While I stuck to traditional engineering, Aleksey became a more than skilled genetic engineer. He took the company over from his retired father, found some investors and developed one the world's best laboratory for genetic engineered creatures. In other words – he produced customized slaves for every purpose.

This part of his business was unknown territory for me. The far bigger part of his several plants in different countries produced slave related technology like the ones I had invented myself. Before I took over my father's business I had worked for Aleksey's father and they still produced and developed my inventions. Usually I worked with a company branch at home but I always welcomed the opportunity to visit my friend and colleagues. As always 87 jumped around like a rubber ball as we entered the building. He joked, laughed and bounced around like a happy little boy. However, as we were led into the quarters where Aleksey's father lived, he became quiet and subdued. Vladimir Markov was generally gentle and friendly towards his slaves but required discipline and obedience. Though the old man sat in a wheelchair due to a stroke a couple of years earlier, he had still an aura of great power around him. I didn't need to prompt Marcus; he was on his knees with his forehead on the floor even before 87 could set the example.

"Ah Misha! Nice to see you again!"

Vladimir Markov looked up from his desk as we entered. I never knew why but as always I instinctively bowed slightly before I went over to greet him.

"It's an honour!" I replied as we shook hands.

While we continued exchanging pleasantries he held his hand out palm down. 87 shuffled to his side and placed his head under the hand. The boy knelt beside the man's wheelchair with his knees pressed together, the feet resting on the tips of the toes. His body was slightly bent forward so he could put his head face down under the man's palm. The boy's arms were crossed in the small of his back. I could see his body trembling; he surely wasn't very comfortable kneeling next to his senior master. While talking the man's hand slid down to the boy's neck and squeezed it, causing the lad to pull his shoulders up slightly only to earn himself a quick slap onto the back of his head, not enough to hurt but to be recognised. The man's fingers then found the boy's left ear and started to play with it before suddenly, after he finished a part in our conversation, he twisted the ear backwards. 87's head was forced back; fear and pain stood in his face.

"I hope this useless brat didn't cause any problems for you, did he? Couldn't behave himself, I guess!"

"He behaved as I expected him." I answered vaguely. He laughed.

"You guys are all too lenient with him. All the brat needs is a firm hand. A good trashing each day would keep him in line!"

87 winced as Vladimir pulled his ear further before slapping the back of his head again.

"You're lucky brat I can't trash you any more or you would have a sore ass every day."

It sounded harsh but I knew, if he wanted, he could easily spank or whip the boy; he was only partly paralysed and his right arm was as strong as ever. The old man loved the boy though he would never admit openly. But I had watched him with the boy on his lap more than once; both of them laughing, cuddling and telling tales. He was spoiling the boy as much as everyone else in the family did. Therefore 87 took the slaps and ear pulls as easy as they were; he knew the man was just teasing. Nevertheless he watched his steps carefully; knowing there would be severe consequences if he ever let the man down.

"And that's the little one we have talked about?" Vladimir asked, changing the language so Marcus could understand.

"Yes Vladimir, he is. Marcus, display!"

Marcus, a bit startled by the sudden command, leapt up, spread his legs as wide as he could and put his hands behind his head. He looked straight ahead; presenting his nude body to the men.

Vladimir scanned him with his eyes; Marcus clearly wasn't very comfortable with everyone's attention on him. Vladimir snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor in front of him, rolling his chair back slightly. Marcus looked at me and as I nodded, he scooped around the desk and fell on his knees in front of the man, touching the floor with his forehead before returning into display position. The man indicated him to stand up; Marcus was visibly tensed as the man's hand ran over his body. With one quick movement Vladimir's hand went down between the boy's legs and lifted the boy up. Marcus winced as the plug was driven deep into his bowels as his bare bottom landed on the wooden desk.

Miraculously the chain holding his penis down had been unfastened; the boy looked down and watched his little cock growing. Vladimir and I watched too, 87 couldn't help stealing a glance either. Rolling closer Vladimir gently pushed Marcus onto his back, leaving just his legs dangling from the desk. Being naked at the airport with thousands of people around had been nothing for Marcus but lying there on the desk with his little pecker pointing right into a stranger's face made the boy blush as deeply as he could. Vladimir smiled as he saw the boy's reaction.

"You have a rare specimen of slave boy, Misha. I think you should leave us alone now. Take the brat with you; Aleksey is already waiting for you."

I knew I could trust Vladimir completely; nevertheless it was hard to leave Marcus like that. I could see his eyes pleading for help. I had to clear my throat before I could reply.

"You're right. There is work to do. Come, 87!"

Marcus expression was one of pure horror. I couldn't help; Vladimir and I had discussed the matter thoroughly. Before I left the room I turned around again. Vladimir studied Marcus's body closely. If it had been lust I saw in his eyes I would have grabbed my boy immediately but all there was, was professional compassion. I could swear if his hands hadn't been held by Vladimir, Marcus would have reached out for me. The last I heard before the door fell shut was a surprised gasp from my boy as the man's lips engulfed his little penis.

The hug Aleksey gave me was one for long lost friends though we had talked a lot over the videophone lately. I shook the hands of all the doctors, technicians and engineers waiting for us. I knew most of them and knew they were the best available in their sectors. However, it was the first time I met Vasily personally. He was the one who picked up my idea and developed it further until it worked perfectly. We had corresponded almost every week the last year; exchanging views and suggestions. I had watched the prototype fitted slaves over the videophone and was even able to control them over the net. There were difficulties on the way but now we had the ultimate slave control device; and Nico was about to have the honour of being the first to be fitted with it. After the introductions Aleksey left; I would see him the next day.

We were in a lab's preparation room and Vasily asked if I wanted a little demonstration before we started and I agreed happily. Vasily touched his watch and a young lad, who was preparing the lab, became rigid. We watched him through a window between the two rooms. The slave was about 17 or 18 years old, medium tall and slender. He wore a thin, almost translucent overall and rubber shoes. There was no hair on his head and certainly he hadn't any at his body. The boy was Vasily's personal assistant, but by the way Vasily spoke about him I knew there was more between them. I didn't know Vasily had his own boy fitted with the device but I was suddenly much more at ease with my decision to put it on Nico. I just knew Vasily wouldn't let anything not working safely near his slave; as far as I knew he was his own slave, not company property.

"He insisted on trying it on him. It's the latest prototype, only some minor changes were made at the final version. Of course he doesn't like it when I'm using it without warning."

He ran his fingertips over the screen of his watch and the slave went backwards, turned, bent over, dropped to his knees, rolled on the floor and so on.

"Of course it needs a lot of training before you'll be able to command your slave so smoothly," Vasily said as we entered the lab.

We wore all lab coats in preparation for Nico's fitting. The slave boy knelt on the floor, heavily panting. Vasily gently stroked his bald head.

"If you have to, you'll have two options to stop the slave's actions."

The lad's head came up and he looked at his master pleadingly. Vasily planted a kiss on the boy's forehead.

"First you can paralyse him neck down. The nerves are blocked by electricity that disturbed the transmitters."

Vasily made a switching gesture on his watch. The slave's expression became distorted and he fell to the floor. Vasily was ready and he caught the boy's head before it hit the tiles.

"He is now completely immobilised and could be restrained. It's possible to keep it up to an hour but with a boy as young as yours it shouldn't exceed ten minutes. If this is not enough, you should shut him down completely."

Vasily made another gesture and the slave's expression softened and he closed his eyes.

"His brain is now in sleep mode. You can keep your boy like this for 48 hours, but as long as he is out he will need to recover. So let's wake Kolja, I'll need him later."

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"Yes and no. The first level does hurt but only some milliseconds until the nerves are interrupted. Nevertheless the body is in distress so don't use it too much. The second level is pain free, the body relaxes, but if you need long term relaxation you should still rely on drugs. Don't worry, if you stick to the manual it is risk free."

We talked for a while until Kolja could continue his preparations. Vasily would be assisted by medical and technical staff but it was the slave boy who would do all the settings and configurations. As Vasily stated, they had worked together for eight years now and Kolja was a fully qualified assistant. I learned that Kolja was, in fact, Vasily's nephew, he had taken the boy in as his family was enslaved. One could see the boy worshipped his uncle and master and their love was mutual.

Nico was rolled in on a cart and was already mounted on a contraption where his body, head and extremities were fixed to bars. He had been thoroughly cleaned and got a full body shave so even the tiniest hairs were gone. Needless to say he was terrified, not knowing where he was and all the strangers talking in a language he couldn't understand. Once he saw me he looked at me with puppy eyes and whimpered pleadingly. When the contraption was fixed at the operation table I grabbed a stool and sat down right in front of his head. Taking his face with two hands I placed my forehead against his.

"Easy my little pet. I'm here. Everything's o.k." I whispered, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs.

"They're all friends here. It's just a little surgery. No, easy, don't be afraid. I won't lie to you, it will hurt but it's necessary. I'm here and we will go through this together. Just do what the doctors say and everything will be fine."

The technicians attached sensors to various parts of Nico's body; some were just glued to the skin, some were put in with tiny needles. Some tears rolled out of the corners of the boy's eyes and I was busy to kiss them away. A tube was put into his penis up to his bladder. I knew how painful that could be so kept whispering encouraging words to him. Through the whole preparations I spent more effort than any time before with a slave boy but it was important that he became completely relaxed before the fitting started. The drug for the travel had been antagonised and no pain killers were allowed so the training results wouldn't be jeopardised.

The device would be attached to the boy's spine and would analyse the nerves' transmissions. After that it would stimulate the nerves the same way and trigger the boy's muscles. Only a few years ago that technique would be unheard of but with almost unlimited test-slaves available science has made huge progresses. Originally it was meant for curing paraplegia but the technique offered much more possibilities. I had read about it and my suggestions for using it to control slaves had been turned into that device Nico was about to receive.

Nico didn't really need such a device. He had become a good boy-pet so far and I doubted he would give me more trouble while in puberty. But the chance was offered and the thought of him completely at my mercy nearly made me wet the front of my pants. The device wouldn't handicap him at all if it was not used and it would help him to keep his leg muscles trimmed. The problem was that he didn't use the muscles of his lower legs and his calves were already as thin as his arms. The device could make him run marathons while sleeping; at least the muscles would contract like he did. Nico, however, was completely oblivious to what was going on. I continued to massage his face and it worked. He moaned and pressed his teeth together as the scalpel cut the skin on his neck. Once the spreader clamps were in place the worst was over. The wound was cooled with ice so the whole procedure would be bearable. Again I kissed away the boy's tears and soon he was breathing normally.

We all had to wear masks from now on. One of the doctors carefully drilled a hole into one of the vertebrae to get access to the spinal cord. The wires were so thin one could hardly see them. Fitted with a very large magnifying glasses Vasily carefully placed the probe heads. I had now idea how he could see anything but soon he was satisfied. The wires were connected to the controller unit. The unit itself was about 2 x 2 x 0.5 cm [¾ x ¾ x ¼ inch] small. It was incredible the whole electronics with a battery for ten years of average usage could be fitted in such a small container. But even if the unit was so tiny I wondered how it could be placed into the boy's small neck without interfering with anything but it too disappeared into the small cut. Nico did phenomenally; he just whimpered from time to time but otherwise he endured everything without complaining.

The boy's eyes went wide in shock as the probes bonded with his nerves. Kolja had hooked up the wireless connection to the control device. The analyses would be done externally and it would be a slow, hard process. For the first hours I sat with my forehead pressed against Nico's. Not much was said, I just kept skin contact. Kolja ordered the boy to move his limbs or other muscles in his body. He had to repeat everything until the computer got the signal right. The longer it took the more painful it became. Soon Nico was exhausted but sleep wouldn't come for him soon. It had to be done in one session; breaks would endanger the whole procedure.

Vasily replaced Kolja. I felt a hand on my shoulder and saw 87 standing at my side. He motioned me to get up and once I stood he slipped onto the stool. His forehead touched Nico's, and even though the boys didn't know each other, Nico's pulse went down again immediately. I knew Nico was in good hands, he didn't need me right now.

Sweat dropped off Jan's forehead; he stood at the far side of the estate's garden, heavily panting. He had looked into every corner of the house and gardens. After making sure Sebastian was all right he went looking for Chris. But the boy had disappeared.

Hours went by and he couldn't find even a trace of his young pal. He had checked the security system repeatedly but there was no trace of Chris too. He only knew that no alarm went off so Chris had to be still inside the walls. There was a tracking system but apart from the master Chris was the only one knowing how it worked. Jan knew Chris couldn't have passed the security fences; at least the master had said it was impossible even for Chris to outflank the system. But where was he? Jan had sent Timo and Sebastian to turn the house upside down and even the black boys were part of the searching party, but with no success.

Feeling beaten, Jan shuffled to the new stable; he knew he had to water and lock up Thunder for the night, whatever happened to Chris. Unconsciously he rubbed the skin under his collar. Before Chris was missing it might have caused disappointment to Jan that the master's trust didn't extend so far that he was excluded from the systems that prevented all slaves from leaving the estate. Now he barely noticed how sore the skin from the electricity the collar had sent to his neck while looking through all the bushes and trees near the walls of the estate. He only hoped that Chris didn't something really stupid.

Thunder stood where Jan had left him hours before, tied to a trough where he had slurped up his pony food. Jan poured a small bucket of water into the trough, took a cloth and lathered the pony boy down while Thunder dove into the water to extinguish his thirst.

He didn't flinch any more when one of the other boys touched his boy parts or his sore bottom. He became accustomed to being handled like an animal and, if someone had asked him, would have admitted he was quite content with his life. Of course he didn't like the sting of the whip he felt every day but he liked the running and strangely felt free since there wasn't anything to worry about any more. No school, no annoying parents or other people always demanding something of him. All he had to do was run and the longer he ran the better he became.

Jan was usually quite gentle with Thunder. He understood the master's reasons for being so harsh to the boy and on the track he took absolutely no nonsense from the pony. But in the evening he tried to give some comfort to him. But Jan was too occupied with thoughts of Chris's disappearance. He slapped Thunder several times when the pony failed to move accordingly in time. Jan even grabbed the boy's balls when Thunder wouldn't quit drinking when ordered. Thunder took everything as stoically as he used to but a closer look would have revealed a certain glee in the boy's eyes. When the pony did well he was usually allowed to lie down on the straw for the night otherwise his head harness was hooked to the wall and he had to sleep standing. There was nothing wrong with his efforts that day but Jan, his thoughts miles away, snapped the hook on the harness and tightened the chain. Jan had the boy's night gag in his hands when he reached for the last straw.

"Chris is missing. Have you seen him?"

Thunder opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but he just shook his head no. A quick smile played around the corners of his mouth. Jan saw it.

"Tell me!" he shouted at the helpless pony boy, smacking him hard on the thigh.

Thunder lost his smile and starred at the teen.

"Is beating me all you can do, great Sir?" he pressed out.

Jan lifted his hand to smack him again but hesitated. He turned his eyes away from the boy and slumped down onto a bale of straw, digging his face into his hands.

Marcus was curled into a ball and slept peacefully on Vladimir's lap. The old man sat relaxed in his high-back wheel chair, stroking the boy's smooth skin with the tips of the fingers of his injured hand while conducting a classical symphony with the other. He had his eyes closed and seemed to be absorbed completely by the music, but he had sensed my presence and beckoned me over. The piece of music lasted just a couple of more minutes and as the final was over he rested his hands on the sleeping lad's body.

"How are you, young friend?" he asked me.

"Tired, but fine. It's been a very long day. Thank you. And how did you two go along?"

"Oh very well. A very fine boy you have. I would definitely keep him if I could. But his heart belongs to you only; though he is afraid he might have lost your love."

"You didn't any hypnosis, did you?"

"Of course not. I have other ways to make boys talk. Above all, you are far better with that stuff than me. No, we talked a lot and I think he's ready for the last step. Don't ask how we got there, the boy will tell you eventually. Trust me."

"I always do, otherwise I wouldn't have asked you to help me."

"So I'd suggest you take him up to your room. The boys are waiting."

True to his words as we entered the guest room there were two boys kneeling in the middle of the large room. I knew both of them and both knew me. They were brothers. One, Viktor, was about 17 years old and developing in a fine young man. His brother, Dimitri, was five years younger and he was a stunner. He had blonde hair and eyes of the deepest blue I ever had seen. His face was still boyish but the most prominent feature was his full fleshy lips. Those lips were made for kissing and that's what he did perfectly. Amazingly, for a slave boy and especially for such a good looking lad, that was the extent of sexual experience he had had so far in his life. Ira, the boy's mother, watched him vigilantly and had threatened everyone, even her own masters, to cut his balls should he ever bring his cock near the boy's anus. Since Vladimir's wife had died and Aleksey loved his work more than any human being she had become the only woman in the house.

Of course the Markovs could have simply taken the boy or replaced Ira but that's not how they were. Ira had nursed Vladimir's wife and now tended the old man perfectly and both knew that's how it would be until Vladimir passed away. She had managed to keep her boys out of the laboratory and both were now a part of the household. However, Viktor's days as a houseboy were numbered and the only promise Aleksey had made so far was he wouldn't sell him.

Ira didn't fool herself; she knew she couldn't protect Dimitri forever. She had tried with Viktor and she had lost the battle when he turned twelve. Since then Viktor entertained the masters and their guests regularly. I had seen tears in her eyes as we had passed her on our way to the guest room; she knew that the life of her second baby was about to change. Not that Dimitri was naïve. He had seen it all; serving the men who played with his brother. Parts of him wanted to do the same, parts dreaded it since he knew how his brother cried out each time a penis entered his anus. It's not that it happened too frequently; Father and son didn't have many visitors and Aleksey's favourite plaything was now 87; if he could find some spare time, that is.

The boys, including Marcus, were oblivious to all that. The brothers had pressed their foreheads against the floor; lifting another prominent feature of their bodies into the air. Even at 17 Viktor had still a very spankable bottom and Dimitri's rear end could only be described as perfectly shaped bubble butt. Both bums were screaming 'spank me' and, to the boy's dismay, most people were just too happy to oblige. In the company almost each of the free people couldn't resist to place a quick smack or two on these lovely bottoms whenever they got the chance, as did the handlers and overseers. Ira and Boris stood no nonsense from the boys nor did Vladimir and Aleksey. The boys weren't overly naughty, but being slaves they knew reasons for a spanking were not always needed.

I admit, I seldom missed the opportunity to turn their bottoms red and the boys didn't expect me to miss it that evening. I didn't thrash them, I used only my hand. I always took my time; a couple of years ago the boys spent almost four hours over my lap, taking turns. Victor told me it was an incredible feeling when he sucked my cock while his brother's body twisted over his shoulders while the smacks rained on Dimitri's bubble butt.

It was a different Marcus that accompanied me to the guest room than the Marcus I left with Vladimir. He still wasn't the lively boy I knew but it wasn't the sullen and self-pity version of him either. He was still a bit groggy, dragged out of a deep slumber, but there was much more confidence in the boy's composure. It was a very good sign for the last step.

I ignored the kneeling boys and headed for the bathroom. Marcus moved fast, the doors were open and the shower running right in time. No words were spoken, none needed. I didn't know what Marcus was thinking but he must have sensed the significance of the situation. He was back in my private rooms, back at my side, serving me like he used to. All tiredness was gone now, all the long, sleepless hours of the journey and the lessons he learned from Vladimir were forgotten. Vladimir wouldn't tell me what he had planned for the boy but it might have worked. All I knew was that Marcus had a tour to the very bottom of society, to the abyss of what humans do to other humans. Hopefully he understood now that there was time for gentleness but also time for cruelty when dealing with slaves, especially to break them in.

Sitting on one of the two large beds in the room I made my boy stand between my legs. Lifting his chin with my fingers I made him look at me directly for the first time in weeks. He gulped heavily. I tried to ban all love and compassion for the boy out of my eyes and voice.

"Now, boy, you should have learned more about being a slave. When we return home, tell me, who will be with me? Marcus, the mere slave, toiling away under the treat of the whip for the rest of his life; or Marcus the leader, the powerful boss, my right hand, who will be able to extract the best of each slave; who will use his wits when possible and his whip when necessary? Each slave has a purpose, a reason why he exists. Tell me, what will be your purpose? I want your decision now."

Marcus was as white as a sheet of paper. He was shaking and I closed my legs to prevent his legs from failing to support him. Tears stood in his eyes.

"Master, I'll do whatever you tell me, Master." he whispered.

I had expected something like that from a boy as smart as Marcus. But I wanted him to decide; I wanted him to tell me.

"No! What will be you purpose? You need to tell me!"

He shook even more; tears ran down his cheeks. Despite my determination I couldn't stand it longer. My love for the boy told me to make it easier for him. I opened my legs and held my arms out. Marcus hesitated but then threw himself onto me. Heavily sobbing he held on me for dear life. It took him several minutes before he could press out between his sobs:

"Master, I will be at your side. I will do what I have to do. I love you, Master."

I jumped up and holding him tightly I danced through the room, swaying him around while we both shed tears of happiness. I had my boy back.

NEXT PART